Italian Lessons
by spoons are for marmalade skies
Summary: James loves Lily, Snape loves Lily, Sirius loves Sirius. Peter loves James’ cowboy jammies. Meanwhile, Voldemort’s minions march ever closer…
1. Chapter 1: The Forbidden Forest

Hats off to J.K. for the works. Also, this is an updated version (I know, already. I have to keep going before I work backward) in response to more than one complaint, oh my, that the beginning was confusing. Hopefully this helps!

**Italian Lessons**

Or

How to Find a Hot Tutor in Thirty Days

--

Chapter One: The Forbidden Forest

--

Italian, of all things. Ye gods of saints and Marauders, give me a month and I could think of nothing less interesting. Twenty minutes of contemplation later and I was still standing there, half-asleep, when my best mate Padfoot came pelting up shouting that we'd be late for class if I didn't hurry my arse up.

Be that as it may, I wasn't showing up in my cowboy jammies for him or anybody. Even if he threatened to hex me, or the sight of my naked torso would cause one Lillian Evans to fall at my feet begging me to take off her clothes and make love to her on the floor.

Well, maybe then. Either way I still had to get dressed before we could leave.

When my eyes refocused the first thing they fell on was Padfoot's slack jaw. "You've got to be kidding me. _Italian_?"

I patted him sympathetically on the shoulder as I passed, beginning to tousle my hair along the way. The last thing I heard from him was a mutter of "This has to be the sexiest thing Dumbledore has ever let us do…"

--

Half an hour mussing my hair, twenty minutes dressing and fifteen rushing to the kitchens and back, and our first class of the day was successfully disposed of. Not ones to let our mischief go unnoticed, Padfoot and I wandered into Slughorn's room to the dulcet tones of the bell. Slughorn sent a stern glance our way.

"That was the final bell, boys, in case you missed it."

Padfoot put on his best shocked face. "My goodness! You mean –" He squinted at his watch and let out a tinkling laugh. "Stopped again! That explains it all." He slapped me on the back, and I also giggled innocently. Evans caught my eye, and it became a manly chuckle.

"Our mistake, Professor," I said, trying my best 'in charge' face. "We'll make up the time, of course."

"Yes, you will. I'll see you here at seven o'clock sharp."

I coughed a gentle reminder into my hand, winking at Evans. "Afraid not, Professor. Miss Evans and I have a meeting to attend." I smiled pleasantly. Evans smiled pleasantly back.

"Oh, that should be fine, Potter. I'm sure I can handle them without you."

"Of course you can," Slughorn boomed over the racket everyone was making as they jostled past. I saw Padfoot's wand behind his back and attributed the spread of falling Slytherins to a few well-placed tripping jinxes. I would have applauded right then if he wasn't leaving the entire detention talk to me, the berk.

"Ah, Professor, we both know who runs those meetings. How many chances do I have to see such a master at work? Evans' management skills –"

"I would say as often as you can set them, Mr Potter," Evans said sweetly, "but correct me if I'm wrong. Excessive amounts of anything become an unpleasant blur after a while."

"There, you see?" Slughorn said, beaming at her. "Plenty of time for Prefect meetings. It's Potions that matters to you tonight. Hurry along, now," he said, cutting me off before I could protest. "Can't be late twice in one day."

"Not the _Head Boy_," Evans said. "I wouldn't believe it."

"New things happen every day," I said, slinging my arm around her shoulders as we walked out. She shrugged me off and tried, without success, to outpace me.

"Going out with you _not_ being one of them."

"You wound me. I merely intended to comment on the… lack of… trees."

We had reached the Entrance Hall. Through the open front doors we could see an enormous swath cut through the Forbidden Forest.

"What the…" Evans dropped her bag. She didn't protest when I picked it up and followed her with it. "What happened?" she whispered.

I shook my head, good mood evaporated. Not only did it look as though someone had set fire to the Forest, they had managed to get Hagrid's house as well. Scorch marks ran black from ground to roof, smudged by, I would wager, the _All-Purpose Mess Remover_ empties piled by his door.

Evans flung herself at him. "Oh, Hagrid! What can we do?"

Evans' adoring face looked up at him, and all my sympathy disappeared. If that didn't cheer him up nothing would.

It did. "Yeh'll start by gettin' yerself over to Kettleburn an' payin' attention ter yer lesson," he said gruffly. Evans let go and toddled off, glancing back now and again to look at the mutilated Forest.

"What happened, Hagrid?" Remus asked seriously, peering at the smouldering ground. Sirius walked across it to get a closer look.

"Oy! Get off there, Black, yeh don' know what's been there!"

"What was it?" I asked, watching Padfoot's progress. "Not Death Eaters?"

Peter looked up for the first time, his face glum.

"Dunno," Hagrid said. "It goes way in… whatever it was must've come a long way."

"You mean like a creature?"

Hagrid shook his head sadly. "Sure, or… I dunno, I'm no great shakes at magic meself. Bu' Dumbledore figures some kind of curse, maybe. Or – or creature, yeah." He lowered his voice. "Listen, yeh've got a meetin' tonigh', don' yeh?"

I hesitated, glancing to Remus before nodding.

"All righ', then yeh'll hear all this anyway. If anything got this close – to the grounds, almos' – well, it looks bad. Yeh'll have yer hands full patrollin', I can tell yeh, bu' from now on – whatever yeh migh' hear, or figure – jus' don' let anythin' by, understand?"

I switched my bag from one shoulder to the other. "It was Voldemort, then?"

Hagrid seemed to size me up before answering. I looked away, to Peter trying to listen in without looking like he was, to Sirius now smelling the ground, to Remus, standing beside me frowning. When I met Hagrid's eyes they were cautious.

"I'd say so, prob'ly. Bu' it's Dumbledore that knows. Yeh talk to him if yeh wan' answers."

We hiked it up the hill then; Kettleburn would give us some leeway if he could see us, but Evans sure wouldn't, and I had her bag. To my immense surprise she didn't move away when I'd handed it to her, but stayed to listen to us discuss what might have happened.

"It was odd," Padfoot was saying, "it smelled really queer. I think I'll take another look tonight."

"No," Evans said sharply. "Not if it's –" She took a deep breath, "Voldemort, you can't afford to – to do whatever it is you're – " She was shaking like a leaf. I risked putting my arm back around her, which at least distracted her.

"It'll be fine," I said, "we know what we're doing."

"This isn't some stupid prank," she said, a little louder than she had intended. Half the class was staring at our little group now, hunched in a circle. The Graphorn Kettleburn was showing us took a swipe at him, which distracted them enough for Evan to go on, lower this time, "it's dangerous out there."

"Yeah, well, we can handle it," Padfoot said casually, though he looked uncomfortable. "It needs looking into is the main thing. There was a branch down there that smelled like it came from the settlement."

Evans blinked.

"It what?" I hissed. If Voldemort had the giants wreaking havoc on us I didn't know what Dumbledore could do short of killing them outright, which he'd never agree to even if he could.

"It smelled like what?" Evans was staring between us, swivelling her head to look at each of us and finally settling on Remus. "What are they talking about?"

He shook his head. "If they're right, you'll hear soon enough."

"Why not now, then?"

"Technically, we're not supposed to know ourselves," I said.

She waved a hand. "You're not supposed to know lots of things. This is important. What if Dumbledore doesn't think of it?"

I glanced over her head at Padfoot and let out a nervous laugh. "Of course he will. I mean, it's pretty obvious, especially if he knows they're there." A thought struck me. "He does know, doesn't he?"

"Know _what_?"

"He must, he'd keep tabs on stuff like that."

"Like what?"

"Christ, Wormtail, not you too?" Padfoot said, grinning. "Try to keep up, will you?"

"We'll talk about it later," I told Evans, spotting Snape watching us. "Later," I snapped, letting go of her and spinning around.

"Is there a problem, boys?" Kettleburn called, as Snape and I both drew our wands. We scowled at each other.

"No, Professor," I said, "there's just a _blood_sucker over here. Mosquito," I expanded, forcing a smile and freezing one with my wand. Kettleburn turned away, and I went back to my group, now lacking Evans. I sidled up to Padfoot.

"I have to see Dumbledore," I said, eyes fixed on Evans out of habit more than anything. "Can you talk to Slughorn during lunch? I can't miss that meeting. Tell him anything you like."

Padfoot nodded. "What'll you tell him?"

"Dumbledore? The truth. Evans is right, if he doesn't know he'd better find out."

"That was a giant's branch," he said, "no question. Probably part of a torch."

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"If we're right, everyone'll know."

"Yeah, but are you going to tell her?"

I grinned suddenly. "Yeah."

"Looking good," he said, referring to our hex-less conversation.

"I know," I said, "I almost always do."

--

**A/N: if there's a beta out there who actually speaks Italian, it'd be greatly appreciated. In other words, HELP ME I can barely speak English most days.**


	2. Chapter 2: Common Sense

_Hats off to Jill for this one, I've just realized that she's provided the first word of every story I'm working on right now. She's like my founder._

_And of course J.K. for, you know, creating it._

--

_**Chapter Two: Common Sense**_

--

Cards were not my forté.

For instance, they were the reason I spent an evening running around the Common Room with my knickers on my head, singing 'God Save the Minister'.

No, let me be honest here. They were Evans' kickers.

They were also the reason that, to date, I have lost seven hundred galleons, forty-two sickles and twelve nuts. Not to mention the days, sometimes weeks, of listening to Padfoot rub in my often fantastic losses. And they were also the reason that I found myself patrolling the halls one fine October evening with none other than Snivellus Snape.

I should have known better than to assign Remus to work with him. Rather than listen to Snape's greasy hair drip on the floor, or (more enjoyably) start up a fight – with the added plus that Evans seemed instantly drawn to any scene of my crimes – I reminisced of days gone by. In particular, the day that I assigned Remus to work with Snape.

I had gone to Dumbledore to tell him everything that we Marauders knew about the giant situation. He listened carefully, thanked me and sent me away. I wasn't too pleased that he didn't tell me what he thought; but he didn't ask questions either, which saved us about ten thousand detentions.

What he did tell me was to let the prefects know everything, and to triple their patrols. I expected to be tromped on, denounced, and generally lose Marauder status when I gave that announcement. To my surprise, the night turned out to be great.

When I told the prefects, they were terrified. When I tripled their patrol they tromped on me. When I assigned our times, myself and Evans together, they shouted, stood on their chairs, denounced me, turned the table over and made an all-round hellish ruckus.

But Evans didn't say a thing.

We would be spending five nights a week together for the next three months, and she didn't put up even a token protest.

It was the high point of my life.

I floated up to my room, pirouetting here and there. When Padfoot told me to explain myself or get a grip on my queer mentality, I just grinned at him. Peter begged to be let in on it; I told him to ask Remus. Remus was asked; he told Peter to piss off, in Italian. I might have defended Pete, but I didn't want to open mouth, for fear (as Evans would so glibly put it) of losing air from my over-inflated ego.

Remus did tell them about my pairing him with Snape, which led to a rambunctious pillow fight, which led to a two-day marathon of 'Flame-Throwers Extraordinaire' culminating in my setting fire to my own pants, which led to my being shamed into playing blackjack at five in the morning, which led to my bet that if I lost, I would take over Remus' patrols with Snape.

Looking back, I do realize what a foolish mistake this was. All I want put on record is a note from Section 3C in the Guidebook to Playing 'Flame-Throwers Extraordinaire' (written by moi; after all, I did invent the game). To quote:

_When thou art playing 'Flame-Throwers Extraordinaire', thou shalt not partake in sleepeth. This is partly for fun and partly for survival, thus, thou must abideth or suffer the effects of mortal dangereth._

Thus, I had not yet sleepethed in fifty hours and counting and did not know what I was doing. The long and short of it being that I had to give up my special time with Evans in favour of Snape, who was currently smelling his own footprints.

To his credit Padfoot does the same thing with his piss. When he's a DOG.

However, it was a great excuse to hex him. I started with a nice, easy Impedimenta and worked my way up to the uber-fashionable Levicorpus, preceded by a Silencing Charm to stave off the lecture courtesy of Evans.

No cigar. Snape had just started to go blue in the face from being upside-down for too long, when she pelted around the corner, waving her wand and no doubt wishing she could shout the non-verbal countercurse. Believe me, she made up for it.

"POTTER!"

"Evans," I said politely, making good and sure not to lose eye contact with Snape.

"HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU TAKE ADVANTAGE OF OUR NIGHT-WATCH **AGAINST** THE DARK ARTS TO PERFORM THEM?"

"Hang on," I said, "I didn't do anything that wasn't Ministry of Magic approved, and I withhold the right to –"

Actually, I'm not sure Levicorpus is Ministry of Magic approved. It sort of just appeared.

"AND AGAINST SOMEONE OF A DIFFERENT HOUSE? WHEN INTER-HOUSE RELATIONS ARE MORE VITAL THAN EVER BEFORE? YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW THE IMPORTANCE OF MAINTAINING THE PEACE EFFORTS WITHIN HOGWARTS, WHEN YOU KNOW WHAT'S OUTSIDE IT!"

At this point I think shouting was just habit. She was lecturing me on inter-housal relations at the top of her voice whilst showering me with spit, which, though I am not at all adverse to her and I sharing it under romantic context, was rather gross.

I think she realized what she was doing, because she had started to calm down by then. She had reached the furious-muttering stage; hopefully, from this point, I could stave off the weeks-of-silence by a few well-placed words.

"Lily," I said gently. I know from experience that the girls love it when I say their name. "Don't worry. I understand you completely and will try to make a more solid effort in future."

I smiled winningly. She took a deep breath.

"THAT'S WHAT YOU SAY EVERY TIME AND QUITE FRANKLY I DON'T BELIEVE A WORD OF IT. YOU'VE BEEN CURSING SNAPE SINCE THE DAY YOU WALKED THROUGH THIS DOOR –"

"Yes, but I _have_ stopped hexing random students in the halls. Give me that much."

She had to concede the point; she had made it herself once upon a time. She calmed down a bit more. I let her think on it this time.

"Well," she said, "well. What was he doing?"

"Smelling his footprints."

"What?"

"That's what I thought too. It was just fucking weird."

"You know, Sirius does the –"

I stared Remus down. The sheer coolness factor of being an illegal Animagus notwithstanding, IT WAS ILLEGAL. We did not speak on it.

Evans took over. "I saw Sirius sniff a log."

"It was for defensive purposes," I said, "he was double-checking that it was from the giants."

Right about then I realized that Snape was still listening, and that he was practically a Death-Eater, and probably shouldn't know that we knew what he knew. Or possibly didn't know. I aimed my wand over my shoulder anyway, intending to Obliviate him, but Evans practically leapt into my arms in time to stop me. Needless to say, this was sufficient distraction for Snape to get away. Needless to say, I didn't try to stop him.

"Why, Evans," I murmured, "I had no idea this was what you wanted. You could have asked."

She backed away, blushing furiously. Remus muttered something about taking over my patrol and disappeared. I smiled reassuringly at her.

"It's all right, you know."

She glowered. "Don't be stupid."

"Come on," I said, taking her by the chin and tilting her head back. I could feel her swallow against my palm, and my smile widened. "Are you nervous?"

"No…"

I'm sure she meant that to sound definite but it came out as a whimper. I slid my fingers under her hair and moved closer. She stepped back into the wall.

"There's no need to be," I said, "I'm very good at this."

"Lots… of practice, I suppose," she gasped, as my other hand stroked the skin of her lower back and my knees pinned her to the wall. She could have got away at any time. She wanted me. I couldn't help gloating a little.

"Don't be shy," I said, working my hand around to the front of her robes and seeing how far up I could get before I stuck. Pretty far, it turned out. "And feel free to reciprocate."

"Wh-what?"

Was this was all it took to shut her up? Hell, I should have tried it years ago. I licked her lips and then backed off enough to see her response. It looked good from my angle. I tried it again, and left it there that time. My tongue, that is. In Evans' mouth.

Ha! ha! ha! My tongue was in Evans' mouth. I'd have to thank Snape some time.

_Ew, gross_, I thought, pulling away. What was I doing thinking about Snape at a time like this?

I noticed her frowning and realized that I must have said it out loud. "I mean that was fantastic, keep it up." I grabbed onto her, but she had her senses back, and I guess her pride.

"EXCUSE ME?"

Ouch, and her vocal chords. I wasn't ready to let her go just yet, but I sure did rub my ringing ears against her chest.

Ha! ha! ha!

"HOW DARE YOU?" She took a deep breath, couldn't think of an argument, and let it out. "Okay, never mind," she muttered, pushing at me to get by. It was like the sexiest thing EVER.

"Keep it up, Evans, you're really convincing me to let you by."

She stopped, blushing.

"That's better," I said, reaffixing my hold. "Now, where were we?"

I kissed her eyes. She closed them most willingly. Ah, now I had her where I wanted her. I kissed her nose. I kissed her sweet cheeks, which was actually a little more prudish than I had intended, but it was nice all the same. Her skin is so soft, she must moisturize them faithfully every night.

If she moisturized me as faithfully as she moisturizes her sweet cheeks, I can pretty much guarantee that I would stay as faithful as she is. To her sweet cheeks, that is. I don't know how faithful she is as a lover, as that is not in my personal experience and no living male would ever approach me with the information that they, rather than I, were her lover, for fear of not remaining in the living category much longer. But if she is as faithful as I would be, then you could say that we would be equally faithful to each other.

I kissed her throat, and her ears, and a little below the throat but not too much because I didn't want a mouthful of cotton and these uniforms are bloody high-necked. Then I decided I had avoided her lips for long enough and kissed those too.

And she kissed me back.

Huzzah! I needn't have put it off for so long. Now we could snog as long and as often as I pleased and she would never protest because I was just that good.

We were snogging happily when a sad interruption occurred. It was not Remus, luckily for him. Nor was it even Snape or one of the other, slightly (but only slightly) less annoying prefects.

No. It was her Common Sense. That dreaded thing, so feared by every male in my position (in other words, myself. I don't know of any other male in my position. Or female, for that matter). It made her break free from my loving embrace. It made her slap me right across my mouth, still burning from her sweet, sweet kisses. And it made her scream,

"GODDAMN YOU, POTTER, WILL YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME?"

It also made her run away sobbing. But I knew it wasn't her talking. It was only her Common Sense.

And fortunately, I had a plan.

--

**A/N: Whew, now we know where Harry got the talking-in-CAPS.**

**Next chapter, The Plan! In which Italian Lessons are (finally) incorporated, and the author wonders how to say "piss off" in Italian. Also, there may be more snoggage, depending on**

**a) my mood**

**b) (and slightly more important) James' mood**

**c) what kind of reviews I get.**

**So hit me up, folks! Tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3: The Plan

Heads up to James Blunt; he entertains me for long enough to churn these out. It's ridiculously hot music. One day I'll post a chapter and pretend to make James (Potter, not Blunt. OMG live concert ff! James musical genius (at least in my mind). Hm. No, never) listen to really cool music just so I can print a list of everything I want the world to enjoy.

Or I'll just write like a normal person.

Hats off to J.K.

**--**

Chapter Three: The Plan

--

Days went by, and no sign of Lily. She was in all my classes, she ran our meetings, she hung around the common room at odd hours (it's so hard to stalk her. Seriously. The girl has no schedule). Nothing.

No 'hi', no 'I hate your guts Potter', no 'thanks for the snog'. I tried lead-ins, Remus gave up his patrolling sessions with her so I could figure out just why I needed to be apologizing. De nada. By November I was starting to get desperate.

The Marauders, noble compatriots in all my woes, had stepped nobly to the plate. Specifically, they hauled me down to the kitchens to drown my sorrows in cake, and filled me in on all their hot plans with their girlfriends. It was sickening.

But then – ah, then. I almost wish they hadn't come up with The Plan. It was a sort of revision on my own, unsuccessful Plan – not for want of trying; if I couldn't even _approach_ her without getting a hex in the back (how does she have so many friends to do her bidding? She's a bitch in hell), how was I supposed to carry it out? But their Plan included additions to get her attention in the first place. It was a pretty decent thought, actually. What followed it was a complete accident. Not to mention really, really gross.

It all began on a rainy Sunday afternoon, when we the Marauders, along with our many admirers, were sprawled here and there about the common room. Everyone was chatting happily away, enjoying a brief lull in our schoolwork. Padfoot, of course, was bored witless.

"Prongs," he moaned, for about the millionth time.

"What," I said, not looking up from my Italian text.

"I'm bored, Prongs."

I said, "Vaffanculo." I had made some great additions to the mandatory phrases, notably _fuck you_, or if you wanted to be literal about it _go and take it in your _ass. Of course this was wasted on someone as ignorant as he is.

"Why don't we go to the kitchens," he said.

"I'm learning."

"You don't learn."

"Don't be stupid, Padfoot, how do you think I got to be Head Boy?"

"Bad luck," he said, scoffing at the idea that I might be a good student. Which is of course true; I'm a very studious boy, and I do all sorts of clever things.

"It's just because Lupin doesn't attend enough classes to be any use to them at all," Padfoot went on. He paused to think about that for a while. "Not that you do."

"Thanks."

"It's my pleasure. Let's go to the kitchens."

"I'm learning."

"You don't lea–"

"Padfoot," I said.

"What?"

"We've been through this eight. Times. I don't care whether you think I'm hiding a Playwitch in this textbook, I'm going to keep looking at it until the hour is out."

The nearest cuckoo clock started braying and popping in and out. I shut my book. "The hour is out. What did you want to do again?"

"Kitchens! Hurrah!"

"Gather up the boys." I gathered them up. "Cloak me," I said, holding out my arms. They gaped at me.

"Valets don't come with this school, Prongs," Padfoot said, "it isn't in the package."

"Get it yourself," Pete said. I glared.

"We'll risk it, then, I'm not going upstairs."

"It's one o'clock in the morning," Remus said.

"Yeah, well, we'll say we were on duty."

"What about us?" Padfoot exclaimed, gesturing to Pete.

"Get the Cloak yourself," I said. Padfoot bounded out the Portrait Hole.

"Kitchens! Hurrah!" he shouted.

"Treacle!"

"Fudge!"

"Cake!"

"Shut up, they're going to hear us!"

We got to the pear without being caught, oddly enough, and tickled it. The house elves frolicked about until we had enthused enough over them. Then they left us alone and the guys leaned forward, forming a sort of huddle. I was nervous.

"Um," I said.

They went on to tell me about their hot girlfriends. This isn't something I want to discuss. We'll jump right back in from where I get involved again, shall we?

"We have a Plan," Remus said, his teeth winking scarily in the bright lights. I covered my face with a hand.

"Oh God."

"No no no," Padfoot said, "not that kind of plan. It's not, like, immoral or anything."

"At least we don't think so," Remus said.

"And Moony made all those references he's so good at, so we don't have to worry," Peter smirked.

"It involves your Pretty Lady," Padfoot said. I suppose that was supposed to induce clarity.

"Courtney?" I said.

"Who?"

"Never mind. It's not Elizabeth, is it? Because there isn't any point, we're –"

"Lily," Padfoot said. "It's Lily, Prongs. The girl who precedes all others. With the hair? You snogged her last week, she likes muffins? The one you _never stop talking about_."

"What about her?" I asked suspiciously.

"We have a Plan," Peter said. "It's really good."

"Remember how you were thinking you might pin her to the wall with your hand up her skirt?"

"Well, when you put it _that_ way, it sounds like it'll work so _well_."

"Has it so far?" Remus asked. A fair point, not that I was going to admit to it.

"It did last time!"

"Uh-huh," Padfoot said, studying his fingernails. "For the mo, we're calling that the 'element of surprise'. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept."

"Which did work, as you noted."

"So we thought we might, you know, try that sort of thing again –"

"But with a bit of a twist. Ideally you'll end up with your hand up her skirt –"

"Okay," I said, not wanting to know how they'd come to that conclusion. "What is it?"

"First we're going to get her attention. That should be easy enough."

I didn't trust them. The last time I let them do something like this I ended up at the bottom of the lake with weights attached to my feet.

"Then you play up how dreadful you are at Italian."

"It shouldn't be too hard," said Remus.

What a pillock.

"If she doesn't agree to tutor you –"

"She will," Padfoot said. "Trust me, you don't want us to have to revert to Plan B."

I really didn't trust them.

"Okay, so she's agreed to tutor you. Once you're meeting in the library –"

"You should probably apologize first. That way she won't think you're just in it for the snogging," Remus said, cutting Peter off.

"You didn't ask her about this, did you?" That would be just like him.

"Anyway, you can handle it from there," Padfoot said. "The main thing is getting her attention."

I eyed him. "And how did you intend to do that?"

"First," Padfoot said, spreading our map on the table and tapping his wand with it, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

"Aye aye," Remus and Peter said, lifting their hands. I didn't budge.

"I don't know whether I –"

"At seven fifty-nine," Padfoot said, ignoring me.

"That's one minute before classes," Remus said. "We know you've never been up that early but you're going to have to make an exception."

"You can always stay up all night, but I wouldn't advise it," said Padfoot. "You'll need to keep your strength up. Phase One will begin outside the Potions classroom. Everyone will run around screaming, Lily will leap into action from the floor above –" He pointed to the Italian classroom, where I guess we'd be the next morning. "The Heads will herd the wee Slytherin first-years back to their dorms for safe-keeping, and then you'll have to walk back up. Alone," he said, as if I wouldn't get it. I brightened up at the thought.

"We don't think you'll be able to pull it off in two corridors, though, so Phase Two will begin when you get here on your way down," Peter said, pointing to the bottom of the stairs. "This one's a bit harder to control, but we _think_ the class'll have cleared out entirely by the time you get back, and it'll be safe to walk on. Padfoot'll cover that and then get his sorry arse out of there."

"Please don't stay and watch," Remus said, "it'd be kind of perverted."

"Are you kidding?"

"No, Padfoot, they're not," I said. "Maybe someone else should do it."

"I meant are you kidding, why would I want to watch my best friend roll around with some girl," Padfoot said, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, what do you think I am?"

No one said anything. He hastily jabbed at the map. "Anyway. Um, Phase Three will keep them out of that hall until at least half past, so you have until then to work your magic. Don't try anything too kinky, all right? We know she doesn't respond well to that."

"Yes," said Peter, "we really, really do. And in case you're wondering why we went to all this trouble, it's to make you bloody shut up about her. So do us a favour when it works, all right?"

"Also it'll be gobs of fun. Let's move, boys, Prongs doesn't have much time to pack in his beauty sleep."

"Beddy boops," Remus said, patting my hair helpfully and grinning. As soon as their precious plan failed, and they got out of detention, I was going to kill them.

--

**A/N: will the Plan work? What will happen if they have to revert to Plan B? (I, for one, don't want to find out.) What's the really, really gross result? Read to find out!**

**Unfortunately for you I'm going to BC for a couple of weeks, so I'll post if I have the chance but otherwise I'll write up a storm and throw you a whole stack when I get back. Meanwhile, have a v Harry couple of days.**

**Interesting side note here: 'piss off' actually doesn't translate into Italian. They'd say something (according to my Italian friends, who, alack, are not ff-y. I had to be v sneaky to get it out of them without them thinking I was a complete moron for trying to rewrite/borrow/butcher the marvy HP)… let me try that sentence again, my parenthesis was too long. They'd say something like 'take a shit' or something, which I guess is the same idea. But I liked this one better. Quite edgy, my dears!**


	4. Chapter 4: Blackmail

**This is an update. Already, I know, but there have been Complaints as to Clarity. So, now that I am fully conscious, I have reread, revised and reposted. Which just leaves you to review and we've got a full circle! La-la-la.**

Chapter Four: Blackmail

--

Silence.

The ticking of a clock, rain on the windows.

Otherwise, silence.

Then I felt like my head had imploded.

"Aaaaahhh!"

"Aaaaahhh!"

"Aaaaahhh!"

I sat up and looked at my fellow Marauders, all of whom were squealing. "Shut the fuck up!" I shouted, diving back under the covers and covering my head with a pillow. Padfoot dragged the quilt, Remus and Peter got ahold of my feet, and the next thing I knew I was sprawled on the floor wondering what the hell was going on.

"What the hell is going on? You're going to ruin my hair!"

I must have fallen back asleep or I would never have said anything so retarded. I looked at my watch and groaned. "Tell me this is a horrible nightmare."

"Only if you screw up. Today is the big day!"

"No time for beauty sleep, up you get!"

"Here, boy!" Sirius lolled his tongue around and dropped to all fours. I kicked him in the ribs.

"Don't you remember what's going on?" Remus asked, obviously horrified at the thought of me forgetting something that HE had said. "I thought you actually focussed when we spoke of your One True Love."

"Clearly that isn't the case," I mumbled, scrubbing my face with a hand.

"It is now 6:59. You have one hour to get dressed, get breakfast, and get your arse to the Italian classroom."

I snarled at him but complied. He was doing me a favour. Fifty-nine minutes later had my arse seated in the Italian classroom and the rest of my body sleeping in my very uncomfortable desk.

But it was not to be. One minute later there was an explosion from below, and Evans leaped into action so effectively that she knocked me to the floor, where I was promptly trampled. The Plan was working out far too well. By the time I got out of the classroom Evans, along with the rest of my peers, were out of sight.

I bolted for the stairs to the dungeons in the vain hope that Evans had done what Remus thought she would. The first thing I saw when I hit the bottom step was Snape trying to put his hand up her skirt. I came to a dead halt.

"Ew, gross," I said. Snape heard. He turned. I launched myself at him. He whipped out his wand and I crumpled in what I can only hope was a well-mannered, attractive heap.

--

I woke up in the hospital wing. I knew where I was before I even opened my eyes; it just has that post-battle feel to it. The sun-warmed sheets, the concerned faces, the rabid fan-mail.

I risked opening one eye a crack, and spotted a heap of fan-mail at the foot of the bed. I opened the other. Sun-warmed sheets. I picked my head up and looked around.

"Hello?" I said. "Evans? Padfoot? Madame Pomfrey?"

Nothing. I scowled and felt the bump on my head. I was going to kill Snape.

--

Silence.

The clicking of our heels. Rain on the windows. We were on patrol.

Silence.

"Okay, look, Evans," I said, unable to take it any longer. "Are we going to discuss this issue or not?"

"I didn't think there was one."

Why do I even like this girl?

"The issue is that you snogged me and then let Snape – Snape! – put his hand up your skirt."

She let out a breathy sigh. "First of all, Potter, _you _snogged _me_."

"I beg to –"

"Secondly," she said, raising her voice, "I did not _let_ Snape put his hand up my skirt, in fact I was turned the other way – _not_ that that gives you any right to kill him."

"I still think I should –"

"And thirdly it is NONE of your business whose hand is up my skirt because I know for a FACT that you snogged my entire dorm last week and didn't feel the need to stalk them, or kill their next conquests, or machine any stupid private patrols with them, or – or –"

"Conquest?" I said. I wasn't a conquest.

"The point is not that you snogged them! And you didn't care!"

"That's exactly the point, Evans, I do care about you and therefore I have every right to –"

"Ah, but I do not care about you. Therefore you have no rights."

Damn it. Lost again.

"Okay, but what I'm trying to say is that it must have meant something."

"What must have meant something?" she said, astutely stupid. I smacked myself in the forehead.

"Us! Snogging like fiends, remember?"

"I try not to think about it."

"I don't see why not. It's a perfectly respectable pastime."

She rolled her eyes.

"And you're not me, you don't snog just anyone. In fact, by the sounds of it you don't snog anyone at all."

"That would be because everyone is too scared to risk the wrath of YOU." She stabbed me in the chest with her finger. "So would you KINDLY remove your BLANKET BAN –"

"Okay, okay. Relax. All I'm saying is that if you hated me so much you wouldn't snog me."

"Obviously I would."

"But not if you hated me."

"Then what is this feeling?"

"Maybe it's lo –"

"Don't even," she growled. "The feeling is hate."

"And there we must agree to disagree."

"It isn't a happy feeling."

"No one ever said love is fun."

"By unhappy I mean it wants to rip your guts out."

"Let's try starting this conversation over, shall we?" I said pleasantly, hoping to distract her before she attempted to act on that feeling. "Evans, in a mature, adult fashion, I would like to discuss the events that have taken place these last few days in order that we might come to a healthy conclusion."

"We might come to the conclusion that you staying away from me would be nice."

"You might. I, on the other hand –"

"Don't start again, please, Potter," she said in a tired voice. "We were getting along so well."

"We were fighting. I distinctly remember you raising your voice."

"I mean last week. It was like you were finally saying things that weren't intended to drive me insane, and now you go and wreck it."

"I'm sorry."

"Do you have any idea what you're apologizing for?"

"If you explained in a bit more detail I might have a better –"

She waved me away. "I have a headache, Potter. Can we just walk in silence?"

Back to that. I shoved my hands in my pockets and scuffed my feet. She looked at me sideways.

"Um… okay so you were friendly last week and I thought we might be able to get along so I let you snog me but then you went back to being obnoxious and I didn't know what to think but I'm glad you're sorry and you're acting like a normal person again," she said in a rush. Then she squeezed her eyes shut. I walked up to her.

"You let me snog you because I was nice?"

She nodded, eyes still closed. She swayed a little and leaned against the wall for support.

"And then because I was being obnoxious you let Snape put his – shh, shh, I'm joking." I put a finger on her lips. She leaned into me this time, hands still flat against the wall. I put mine on top of hers. "And now I'm nice again."

Her nod was barely perceptible, but I knew what it meant. I kissed her mouth.

"No, stop," she said, "what are you doing?"

Hm. Not exactly the response I was hoping for.

"I thought that meant we could snog."

"It means we can try to be friends, Potter. James," she said.

"Lily," I said.

"James."

"Lily."

"Quit interrupting me, I know what my name is. Don't do that."

I stopped what I was doing. "Sorry."

"I want to get along with you. No, let me finish. I don't want to snog you in every empty corridor we pass."

"I know a lot of empty corridors," I said helpfully.

"Exactly. If we do that I won't be able to tell if you're turning back into an obnoxious prick. Which is not the kind of person I want to snog."

"What does it matter who they are once you're snogging them?"

Whoops. She tried to back away, but I had her in a corner. She got as far from me as she could and glared.

"It matters because of the _emotional _aspect."

"The what?"

"You're being an obnoxious prick," she said. I let go of her arms but didn't give her room to get away. She's a slippery fiend, that one. "I don't find it attractive."

Ah. That I could understand. "I see."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Oh." She blinked a few times. "Oh."

"So are we going to have to talk and get to know each other? I feel like I've been stalking you for long enough, I must have told you all the things I love about you by now. Not that there is any limit on them." I was still new to this not-being-a-prick mentality and wasn't too sure where the lines were drawn.

She laughed. I made a mental note that compliments were good. "Yeah, talking about something other than me would be a nice change."

"Really?"

"Yes… what do you talk about to other people?"

"Um. You. And sometimes me."

"Together or seperately?"

"A bit of both."

"I see. And may I ask what other people's reactions are?"

I thought about that. "First they roll their eyes."

She grinned.

"Then they start to yawn. Then they start to shout. Then –"

"But you keep talking?"

"Sure."

She laughed again, the kind that said she knew more about me than I did. But not in a good way. I felt very exposed.

"Listen, Ev – Lily. I'm really not comfortable talking about this."

"You mean about me?"

"No, about me."

"I thought you did it a lot. Let me rephrase. I _know_ you do it a lot." She was mocking me, I could tell.

"Very funny. Can we get back to the real issue here?"

"Which is?"

"What we're going to do about – huh. We finished our problem."

"Yes we did." I wish she would stop grinning at me.

"Normally we just fight until I leave, or you leave, or we snog."

"This in your ideal world."

"Yes, well, the latter is a rare treat."

"Here, boy!" she said suddenly, slapping her legs like she wanted me to come trotting over. I stared at her like she was crazy. That being because she was.

"What are you, Sirius?"

"No, I'm joking. You sounded like a puppy on a string."

"I would consider the option were the string long and the other end had you on it. I mean you had the other end. Or whatever."

"Like a leash," she suggested.

"Sort of."

"Like a love slave."

"Yeah, that's exactly it." Now she was starting to get my drift.

"I was joking," she said, and all my dreams shattered. "We should keep walking, we're supposed to be on patrol."

We walked in silence for a while, this time more contemplative than awkward. Or, for that matter, explosive. I was trying to remember Remus' next step to The Plan, now that I had remedied the first.

"Lily," I said, a brainwave having kicked in, "you're good at Italian, yes."

"Sure, I'm all right."

"You're the best in the class."

"I thought you were."

"That's the thing," I said. This was very wounding to my dignity, so I decided to draw it out. "Snape is much, much worse than me."

"Get to the point, Potter."

"Willyoututormemydarling?"

"Bless you," she said.

"Will you tutor me? I'm very bad."

She looked at me like I was crazy. "James. You speak Italian fluently. Your family has a cottage in Italy. You were there three months ago."

I couldn't believe she knew this much about me. It was scandalous gossip, and what was more it was ruining everything. "Yes, but… the Italian they speak in Italy is… different."

"Different how?"

"Like… slangy different."

"You mean you swear a lot."

"In the circles I move in, I don't need to know much else."

"I see."

We had stopped, and she had folded her arms and was looking at me closely. "I think there are better ways we could spend our time together," she said.

"Yes, but… if we do this we'll have more to spend." I smiled winningly.

"I lead a very busy life."

"Is that a no?"

"That's a no."

"How do you feel about me, Lily?"

"I feel that you're pushing it right about now. Remember, I just started tolerating you."

"Okay." I chewed on my lip a bit, wishing it was hers. "How do you feel about Snape?"

She threw up her hands and marched away.

"How do you feel about the whole school knowing that you let Snape feel you up?"

She froze. "You wouldn't."

"Probably not," I admitted.

"But you might?"

"I suppose it would depend."

She took a slow, deep breath, turned around, and marched right back. "James Potter," she said in a low voice, "I never believed you would so degrade yourself."

Uh-oh.

"You are hypocritical, you are perveted, and you are _mean_."

She took another breath and headed back toward the common room. I didn't complain that she was leaving me alone on duty; if the Death Eaters didn't kill me she certainly would. It looked like evil was the safer bet at this point.

"So will you tutor me?" I shouted after her.

"Fine!" she snarled back.

"You won't regret it!"

"I can't think of a reason that you'd be right!"

"You don't need a reason for love, honey, it comes naturally!"

I guess by that point she thought it was a bit silly to continue the conversation. After all, she wasn't even in sight.

But it didn't matter.

I had her right where I wanted her.

--

**A/N: ooh, the viscous James appears! V. Sirius of him. Hopefully this was more entertaining than last chapter, I wasn't quite so bored writing it…**

**I want to make sure here that when you review you tell me whether James is starting to get sterile or not (so soon! Then how do we explain Harry?). No, really, is he becoming the dull-ster? This story is kind of resting on his shoulders. In the next chapter, more plot! Unless you protest. I wish to involve Action and Lord Voldemort.**

**I also want to salute all the Blaisers in the world who are doggedly posting anything to do with that god among insects. They are troopers. Or at least some of them are. Some of them are pure, unadulterated fluff (not that I'm one to point the finger here), and also don't do Blaise justice.**

**And I also want to advertise for Girl in a Yellow Dress, a chapter of which I hope to post shortly. If you haven't read my other stories you must now, for no reason at all but my own self-involvement!**

**Until next time, bat-folk! I'll meet you at the same bat-time, same bat-channel!**


	5. Chapter 5: When In Rome

A/N: Alas alack, I have left you all completely hanging here – I do appreciate you, I just have a short attention span! James has become a bad influence on me. But hopefully I'll be back for a while now.

I also hope you all found my misspelling of vicious in the last chapter as amusing as I did. My (v cool, idealized-form-of-myself) friends and I were imagining a viscous James all week. It was v amusing.

I have enclosed a lovely glossary at the end, in case there's anything that confuses you.

Aaaand action!

--

Chapter Five: When in Rome

--

I realized that my room was closer to the library than Evans' was. I was still angry, concerned, and on some as-yet-unfamiliar level, guilty. It was supposed to be out first tutoring session, and she was not there.

One warm summer afternoon, in an attempt to wile away the scary pre-exam hours of fifth year, my friends and I devised a minimal-effort method of measuring our steps. We test-flew it by first walking from the boys' dormitory to the library, from my bed; then managing to make our way up the vestal virgin of the girls' staircase, and compared the distance between the two. We traveled from Evans' bed, and it was fifteen steps farther than mine, plus length of legs, plus speed in steps per minute, which we worked into an equation and decided that it would take her, on average, three minutes and forty-two seconds longer to reach the library than I.

This of course all theoretical, and the long and short of it being, that even taking into consideration that I had grown roughly seven inches more than she had since then, and allowing her to be walking very, very slowly, she was late. I could understand her not wanting to wait for me, especially after my cruel _bidonata_ of her time. But after three hours of imaging the terrible mutilations and kidnappings she was probably going through to get to me, I decided to give it up and get back to the tower.

I expected her to come charging through the library doors, dripping with blood and water and waiting to be held by a saving pair of arms (mine) on my way out. I really didn't think that after our little understanding, and all my studying up on common phrases _all'amore_ her, she would _tirare un bidone a qualcuno_. Maybe she had an excuse. Maybe she had misread her day planner and thought it was still Wednesday. She would be huddled, terrified (unnecessarily, of course), awaiting my wrath at her disobedience, and I would take her into my arms and _avere rapporti sessuali con_ her.

Hm. I was starting to get kind of excited.

When I got to the Common Room she was curled by the fireplace, reading a trashy Italian novel and smirking like she owned the world. She had done it on purpose, the little _donnaccia_! Well, I was going to march right over there and tell her that, _volente o nolente_, she was going to tutor me or die a _zitellona_.

I marched up to her, folded my arms, and said, "_Volente o nolente_, you little _donnaccia_, you're going to die or tutor me a _zitellona_." I stopped. I thought about what I had said, and how she was laughing at me for calling myself an old maid. But I had managed to call her a little hussy and threaten her life, so the sentence wasn't lost entirely.

"It sounds like you need a tutor after all," she said, her sultry voice a beacon of promise. "And there I heard you were fluent."

"You stood me up," I said, falling back on my original theory, though not wanting to risk another attempt at Italian.

"_Al contrario, Signor_, I slept in on the job. It's just that I was so _sfatto_, I only woke up a few minutes ago." She batted her eyelashes at me, obviously enjoying watching me sweat at the thought of her exhausted after a night of debauchery. Where had she learned that kind of talk? She was supposed to be a vestal virgin.

"I am _allupato because of you_! I have tried so hard, while you –"

She was smirking at me again. "Yes, Potter, you've been about as celibate as I am a _donnaccia_. Why so shocked? Didn't think I'd catch your drift?"

"You weren't supposed to understand," I muttered.

"Mhmm. And were you planning on teaching me some edgy swear words during our private sessions, or just throw crude phrases at me in the hopes of seducing me with the mere sound of your voice when, for once, I didn't know that what you were saying wouldn't interest me in the slightest?"

"But you do know what I said," I said.

"Too bad for you." She opened her book.

"And I know," I went on, "that you, self-proclaimed _cacasentenze_, are reading trash, whatever language you hide it with, and also that you _let Snape feel you up_." I said this last in a low hiss, because I really didn't want anyone to find out. For one thing, it would ruin any hopes of blackmailing her if anyone overheard us. "How do you plan on upholding the prude exterior when everyone hears about that one, eh?"

She was furious. I had the sneaking suspicion that I had pushed her too far. "I have already told you, Potter, that I did not _let_ Snape feel me up, he was absolutely taking advantage of me when I was distracted by _you_. It was _your_ fault, and how he's _stalking_ me, and it's creepy and all my friends know about it anyway so you don't hold anything over me and I do not _moralize_."

She glared. I cringed. I was ready to huddle, terrified, against her wrath, but fortunately my manly exterior held up.

"And I'm _not_ going to tutor you."

"Well I don't need it anyway."

"Obviously not. Calling me _moralizing_, you disgusting cretin."

"Okay, maybe I do," I wheedled. "It's just that everything I know is crude."

"I've noticed."

I went down on my knees in front of her. That gets them every time. I tried to hold her hand, but she refused to let go of her trashy romance. "Evans," I said. "I mean Lily."

"Please," she said, "let's keep things formal."

"Miss Evans," I said. "Will you do me the honour of tutoring me? I need you."

"_Non me ne importa un cavolo_," she said sweetly, "particularly after that display. Now get up, fuck off, and don't try to blackmail me again, or you will not be bearing anyone's children."

"But don't you want any?"

"Potter," she said, in a voice that brooked no argument. I got up, fucked off, and promised myself not to cross her again.

Clearly, my next attempt would have to be very, very subtle.

--

The next day I made sure to brush against her three times, at regular intervals. Each time I murmured sweet nothings in her ear, and each time I made sure to slip up a little in my Italian. The idea was that this would, firstly, get her going, secondly, have her waiting for me if she kind of knew when it was coming (between classes one and two, after lunch, and before dinner), and thirdly convince her that if she was going to have accurate sweet nothings murmured in her ear, she was going to have to tutor me.

She did catch on to when I did it, if nothing else, and made good and sure to be as far away from me as possible during those times. Although that may have been purely accidental.

I left her alone for the rest of the week, and then started it up again the next Friday. Perhaps every day was too much too soon, and once a week would be up to her speed. I slipped a note into her hand after our first class, knowing that she would understand the scrawl of _Ế stato amore a prima vista_. The rest of the morning I spent composing a lovely message for her. I slipped it into her hand after lunch, and was rewarded with a note slipped right back.

I was wild with excitement. I ran up to the guys, forced my way between Padfoot and Remus, and said, "She responded!"

"To your sexual advances?"

"No, to my note!"

Padfoot shook his head and said, "_Lui ha davvero un chiodo fisso in testa_."

I punched him in the arm. He could be so unkind. And I was not fixated.

Remus shrugged. "_Ế stato amore a prima vista_," he said, no doubt enjoying rubbing it in that he had to help me with my first note. I'd never had to tell a girl I loved her before, usually they submitted more easily than that. Most of my knowledge was picked up as strangers screamed obscenities at me in the streets. Or girls screamed obscenities at me after I had broken their hearts and left them to rot in some fishing village off the coast of nowhere.

It wasn't my fault; I loved Evans. I am not a man divided in my emotions. It would be like trying to eat mushrooms and chocolate at the same time.

"Okay, so don't you want to know what it says?"

"Not really," Padfoot said, then, catching my eye, finished hastily, "but go ahead, we're dying to know."

I unfolded the paper with trembling hands, and squinted at her writing. It was practically unintelligible. I scratched my head and said, "Well, I almost think she's telling me to get stuffed, more or less, but that doesn't make much sense, does it?"

"Maybe she realizes that you need to get laid," Padfoot put in helpfully. "She might be offering her services."

"Here, look." I handed it to him. "What does that look like to you?"

"Va…fan…ooh. Um, it could be a q. Or an s."

"I think it's a c. I think it says _vaffanculo_."

"Is that what you were telling me to do all those times?" Padfoot said, sounding mildly offended. "I thought you were complimenting my hair."

"It looks stupid."

"Stick to Italian, will you? At least then it's up to interpretation."

Peter had been grabbing for the paper, so I took it from Padfoot and handed it over. "Don't wreck it, it's a handwriting sample. We might need it later."

"I think Padfoot's right, that looks like a q."

"Then where's the u?"

"Doesn't apply in Italian."

"What do you know about it?"

Peter shook his head and handed it back. "Whatever you want to think, Prongs."

I sighed. "I just don't know anymore. I think we might need to brainstorm tonight for another Plan, this one hasn't worked so far. Unless you're all tired of this, of course."

I knew by their eager expressions that they just couldn't wait.

--

The subtle approach having proved ineffective, I strode up to Evans on Monday, planted myself in the seat next to her, and smiled winningly.

"Hello," I said. "How have you been?"

"Awful, not that you care."

"Oh, but I do," I said. "What's been going wrong?"

"It's mostly been the CSG."

"The what, sorry?"

"The Creepy Stalker Gang," she said. "I've decided to categorize my fans."

"And who would fall under that?"

"Just you and Snape at the mo."

I was a tad taken aback at that, I'm not ashamed to admit. "You put me in a Gang with Snivellus?"

"You better believe it."

"And this doesn't disgust you at all? Aren't you concerned that his slime might touch me?"

"You mean the metaphorical slime."

"Yes."

"In the tiny box I placed you both in."

"Yes."

"Doesn't bother me, no."

Crap. There I had thought we were getting onto the same wavelength. "Time for a new topic," I said. "Your turn."

"How are you?" she said, rolling her eyes.

"Just spiffing."

I waited.

"Aren't you going to ask me why?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm sitting next to the love of my life, and conversing with her."

"Really."

"And we have yet to insult or curse one another."

"Gee."

"Well, aside from a mild slip on your part, but I'm willing to let it slide."

"You're so kind."

"I know."

I waited for a response, then decided that mine had been lacking.

"I mean, am I really?"

"Do you _actually_ want me to expound on just how kind you are, or can I stop being sarcastic yet?"

"Any time is a good time."

"Could you do me a favour in return?"

"Of course, my darling. Anything for you."

"Vaffanculo," she said, leaning right up close to me and trying to stare me down.

I couldn't resist, not with so much temptation laid out in front of me. I kissed her, and then got up, squeezed her hand, and whispered, "_Realmente ho goduto la bacio._"

_I have really enjoyed the kiss._

And then I left.

--

**Thanks v much to my wonderful Italian reviewers who have offered their help so willingly.**

**Reviews please! I wish to know that I didn't lose you on my non-sabbatical, and whether or not this up to scratch.**

**The lovely glossary:**

_bidonata – swindle, trick_

_all'amore – _to make love to

_tirare un bidone a qualcuno – _to stand someone up on a date or appointment; literally, to throw a trash can at someone

_avere rapporti sessuali con – _to have sex with

_donnaccia – slut, hussy_

_volente o nolente – like it or not; literally, willing or unwilling_

_zitellona – old maid_

_al contrario, Signor_ – on the contrary, sir

_sfatto – _worn out after a night of debauchery

_allupato – _hungry for sex, especially after a long period of celibacy

_cacasentenze_ – who likes to moralize, one who acts like he/she is very smart, a smart ass; literally, one who shits sentences.

_non me ne importa un cavolo – _I don't give a damn about it

_é stato amore a prima vista – _It was love at first sight

_lui ha davvero un chiodo fisso in testa – _He's truly fixated on her

_vaffanculo – _contraction of the expression "Va' a fare in culo" up your buttocks

And of course_ Realmente ho goduto la bacio – _I have really enjoyed the kiss


	6. Chapter 6: Better Than Chocolate

This chapter is in honour of Pineapple, Yum! Or, um, Coconut.

--

Chapter Six: Better Than Chocolate

--

'Fixated' was a word that Padfoot had started using with alarming frequency. It concerned me, to say the least. He's quite a stupid boy, so when he notices things I know they must be obvious.

He had noticed my fixation with Evans. He didn't have much choice, I was always dragging him into my Plans. The problem was that he didn't like it. I decided to give up on her. It wasn't like it was going anywhere, and I didn't believe in love. So I made up my mind, one rainy Saturday morning, that I was going to find a new fixation; one that Padfoot could take part in.

I sent off a letter, and it came back a week later. Padfoot must have felt the nervous energy pouring off me as I ripped it open, in tune as he is to my moods, because he put down his mug, lowered his newspaper, and said,

"Prongs, if you don't stop twitching your foot against me under the table I'm going to file a statuatory rape claim."

"Sounds fair," Remus said. I sent him a furious glare, to which he shrugged and took a bite of toast.

"Moony! You're supposed to be the smart one here, back me up."

"Since when?"

I thought about that and realized that it was true, I was the smart one. "Padfoot, you're of age, that's not rape."

"Vaffanculo," he said.

"Don't give him any ideas," Remus said with a grin. I decided to ignore them and finish opening my parcel. Pete, good man that he is, took notice.

"Heads, boys," he said. "Prongs got a present."

"Is it from his mom? Does it look like banana bread?" Padfoot asked. Peter picked up the wrapper and looked at the return address.

"Nope. Doesn't sound familiar."

"It's a Muggle candy shop," I told them. "I ordered Lifesavers."

"You did what?"

"Here, try one." I peeled off the wrapper and handed Padfoot a nice red one.

"Mm," he said, taking another and putting it in his mouth. "That's yummy."

"Better than chocolate," I said. "And look how many I got!"

"You aren't planning on making a romantic bath of them for Lily, are you?" Remus asked, eyeing them suspiciously. I laughed.

"WHO?"

They looked at me.

"I mean, ha-ha, of course not. I don't even like her."

Padfoot scratched his nose and then said, "Are you telling me that all that wasted time was for nothing?"

"This is a recent development."

"My statement stands."

"Okay, yes, so obviously our whole thing was unsuccessful. I thought we might just drop it."

Padfoot disappeared behind his newspaper, glowering. Several very awkward minutes later he said, "Does the name Meadowes mean anything to you?"

"There's a Dori in our year," I said, wondering vaguely whether I had dated her or not. I thought I probably had.

"Her family was just killed."

"That's too bad," I said.

"We should send her flowers or something."

"We could send her some of these lifesavers," I said, looking down at the growing mound of empty wrappers and feeling slightly sick. "Say, are you actually reading that paper?"

"What do you think I'm doing, brushing my teeth?"

"I don't know. Is there anything else in there?"

"Sure, lots. Nothing of interest. It says that her parents were found in – ooh, eurgh. Various rooms. I'm surprised this got past the Ministry."

"They must be trying to make a point."

"What, tea and crumpets will result in dismemberment?"

"Is that what it says?"

"There was evidence that they were drinking tea."

"Why on earth would they put that in?"

"Dunno. Look, you read it, this is disgusting."

He passed it to me, and I passed it to Remus. "I'm going to find Dori," I said.

"Don't you think that's a little soon?"

"She probably isn't even here. Her friends'll be handy, though." I bit my lip. "I should talk to Dumbledore."

"He'll be working like mad to do something about this."

"Yeah, well, maybe I can help." I stood up. "I'll be back for lunch."

I went to find Evans. She was one of Dori' best friends. "Hey," I said, jogging up to her in the courtyard.

"Not now, Potter," she snapped. She looked like she was in a hurry. I walked backwards so I could face her while we talked.

"I heard about Dori."

"Yes, I'm sure you did." She looked like she had been crying.

"Can I do anything for her?"

"I can't think what."

"I've got a lot of connections," I said. "If there's anything she needs, say the word."

"Thank you."

"Are you going to see Dumbledore?"

She looked a bit startled. "Not at the moment. I'm actually getting something for Dori, she's waiting for the train."

I nodded. "Where is it?"

"Um… what, sorry?"

My thought processes were obviously much quicker than hers. "I can get there faster than you. What's she looking for?"

"Her… cloak." Evans looked at me sideways. "Her winter cloak, it's blue. But it's in the girls' dorms –"

"Gotcha," I said, and sprinted off. I made it to the tower in record time and scaled the banister to the girls' dorms, the fastest foolproof method of getting up. Dori's bed was right at the back of the room, and the cloak was caught in one of her drawers. I hauled it open and was ready to clear out when something caught my eye.

It looked like it was from a pamphlet, and it was scrawled over with notes, and names; the message was written clearly across the top in bold letters: _The Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Stand Against the Rise of Lord Voldemort_.

I recognized it; Dumbledore had mentioned something about a group I should join after Hogwarts, but I hadn't paid too much attention. I shook my head, trying to grasp the careless stupidity of it. Dori had left an incriminating list of names out in the open. This kind of thing was the reason her family was dead.

I picked it up and shoved it in my pocket, then went to tell Evans to meet me in the library when she got back.

--

Evans was still upset when she met me later.

"Lily, I found something in Dori's dresser that probably shouldn't have been there."

She squinted at me out of bloodshot eyes. "Were you snooping through her things?"

"I was getting her cloak," I corrected, "and it was right there. She shouldn't leave stuff out in the open like that."

"It was in her _private_ quarters, Potter," she snapped.

"And her parents were killed in their _private_ home."

She sniffled. I rested my elbows on the table. "But you know about this?"

She nodded.

"Are you a part of it?"

She wiggled her head like she wasn't quite sure. "Dori wants me to be."

"I don't blame her, it sounds fabulous. Aside from the mortality rate, I'm sure people are flocking in. And speaking of people, do you know what was written on that paper?"

"Names," she whispered, catching on at last. "She can't be doing that."

"No, she really can't."

"You know how to handle this stuff, you sneak around. You should tell her – no, you're tactless. I have to tell her to be more careful. I'll write her right now. No, I can't write it, that would defeat the purpose." She sat back down and looked at me. "What do I do?"

"Go to Dumbledore. You can always Floo. She won't even be in London yet, though. What's she doing once she gets there?"

"Tracking down –"

I clamped a hand over her mouth. "You don't trust me and you're going to tell me this? You're as bad as she is."

She peeled my fingers away. "I trust you."

"Why?"

"Jesus, Potter, I don't want to talk about this. The Meadowes are dead and –"

"Why do you trust me?"

She didn't quite meet my eye. "I don't have any reason not to."

"That's no reason."

"You're – I don't know, why are you asking this?"

"It's something you need to start thinking about," I said. "Especially if you're going to prattle off inside information from the Order."

"I do not –"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, I'm just saying think before you speak."

She shifted in her seat. "Real hot advice, Potter, now can I tell you what you're asking?"

"If you think it's a good idea."

"She's going to track down the Death Eaters who killed her family."

"How is she going to go about that?"

"I don't know. I couldn't talk her out of it." She pressed her palms against her eyes. "Can you do something?"

"Sure, I'll send someone around and see if they can't talk some sense into her. At least figure out a plan. Have you got her address?"

"Uh-huh." She scribbled it onto a piece of parchment and handed it to me. "Thanks, Potter," she said, touching my arm as I passed.

So much for Lifesavers.

--

That night I sent Sirius to London to look for Dori. He wasn't too adverse to the idea once he understood what I wanted him to do.

"Look," I shouted, trying to make myself heard over his girlish squeals. "Sirius!"

"Ack! don't wanna!"

"This isn't an option, I'm telling you. Now is your chance to rectify Evans' opinion of me."

"What the hell do I care? I lead a busy life, Prongs, I don't have time to run your errands."

"Just seduce the girl, how hard can it be?"

He stopped. "Dori, right?"

"Yes. Very misguided, needs a helping hand."

"The brunette next to you in Herbology?"

"She loved the honking daisies. Although now might not be the time to regail her with flowers."

"That, my friend," he said, already putting on his cloak, "is why it's me, and not you, that gets laid."

--

**A/N: Well that wasn't nearly as happy as I expected. I'm not even in a bad mood, either. Oh, well, looks like the plot is on the move again. Happy days!**


	7. Chapter 7: Successful Seductions

Chapter Seven: (Marginally) Successful Seductions

_In which Lily makes a terrible choice between right and wrong. I'm taking a vote here. All in favour of right vote 'yay', all in favour of wrong vote 'nay'. Hopefully setting the trend: I vote 'yay', where 'right' is stuff I feel like doing and 'wrong' is stuff I don't feel like doing, more than actual moral values or anything._

_On with the unfortunately-named show! (Come on, Successful Seductions? What is this, harlequin meets grade eight english class? I hate myself for this one.)_

--

Smoke billowed out of my ruined cauldron, engulfing the Marauders and causing several of my less stout-of-heart classmates to swoon. I looked at it glumly. I reflected on the way it mirrored my life, and the rapid downward spiral it was taking. I removed the handy deafening charm I had placed on myself: it looked like Slughorn was winding down.

"… And what is more, Potter, Evans mastered this potion three weeks ago. I don't know about you Gryffindors, but any of my house would have been…"

Yeah, yeah, any self-respecting Slytherin would have been grovelling for help by now.

His words and my brain slowly started to synchronize.

Evans.

"…Tutoring…" Wait, he was still going? I kicked Padfoot under the table to see if he was taking notes. He let out a sort of half-snore and twitched in his seat. I kicked Moony, who gave me a thumbs-up.

We were in first block Potions. I was grumpy. Evans, sitting at the table next to us, was grumpy. The whole world was grumpy, except possibly Padfoot who had spent the night seducing Dori and was now sleeping peacefully in his desk. I kicked him again for good measure.

The bell rang.

"What'd he say?" I asked, stuffing my things in my bag for a hasty retreat. Remus opened his mouth to answer, but just then I heard a derisive snort from Evans' direction.

I turned towards her, smirk in place. "What was that, Miss Evans? Is this an admission to your fine listening skills?"

She spun around, ready for a fight. "You may think you're the centre of this classroom, Potter," she snapped, "but the fact that you speak EXTREMELY LOUDLY might account for the majority of what you would call eavesdropping."

That rattled around in my brain for a while. I nodded to make it look like I understood. "Yeeah… listen, Evans, you know how much we both love Slughorn –"

"How much Slughorn loves her, you mean," said Padfoot, who had come up behind and was now yawning massively. Helping Dori seemed to have really worn him out. And yes, I asked him to, and no, that did not give him an excuse to act all mightier-than-thou look-who's-getting-the-action.

"Sure, whatever," I said sulkily. "Love is in the air."

"Is that what your potion was supposed to be? You might have chosen something a bit more fragrant." Evans waved her hand in front of her face to clear the smoke a bit, and I scowled.

"Do you really not see what I'm getting at here?"

"No, Potter, why don't we spell it out?" She shoved her face close to mine. "_I'm not going to tutor you_. Not in Italian, not – mmph!"

When is that girl going to learn? I obviously do not respond well to temptation. Although 'responding well' is up to interpretation. If my enjoyment of kissing her was any measure, I would say that my response was just about perfect.

Unfortunately, she begged to differ. She did this with a polite slap, followed by a shove, followed by a kick to the midriff. Which wasn't very fair, I was down by then.

"Lily! Lily, what are you doing?" Slughorn came racing over, as fast as his little feet could carry him, to haul her off my bleeding form. She was still panting, although the screams had subsided. She stood there glaring, too angry to speak.

Remus stepped up to the plate. "It was probably the lack of oxygen in the room, Professor. Here, let me help her out." He took her by the arm and dragged her from the room before she could do any more damage. Slughorn watched her go and then turned back to see me struggling to my feet.

"Alright, Potter?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

He looked me up and down and then chuckled. "What a girl! Offended her, did you? It's all right," he said, patting me on the back and simultaneously pushing me out the door, "everyone's done it. I tell you, if that girl was an Animagus, she'd be a wildcat."

"I prefer dogs," I said coldly. "Excuse me." I stalked off, brushing the soot off my robes. Remus was talking to Evans up ahead, and they were both gesturing wildly and probably not hearing each other in the least. I grabbed her by the arm and before she could protest, hauled her into an empty classroom.

"What the hell do you think you're –"

"Sit," I said.

"You can't –"

"We need to talk."

"We most certainly do n–"

"Stand if it makes you more comfortable," I said, "but if you don't mind." I sat. Delicately. She had pushed me rather hard.

She folded her arms and glared.

"I'm starting to get concerned about the level of violence in our relationship."

"We don't have a relationship," she said, before she remembered that she didn't want to talk to me.

"It isn't a good one," I said, "but yes, we do. Now, I could retaliate and we could turn this into a full-fledged war, or we could handle this like mature, responsible adults and move past your little tantrum."

"This sounds familiar," she said, looking at me at last, her voice positively sizzling with sarcasm. "What is it, you provoke me and then lecture me on what _we_ should do about it? Maybe _we_ should LEAVE ME ALONE."

She looked away again. I got up and walked in front of her glare. She switched it to the opposite side.

"Evans," I said irritably, then decided that softening my tone would probably minimize future damage to my body. "Lily. Look at me." I tried to take her by the chin, and ducked my head to catch her glance.

"What?" she snapped.

I had finally managed to get her attention and immediately forgot what I was going to say.

"What?" she said again.

"Sorry," I murmured, reaching my hand toward her cheek without quite touching her. "Your eyes just –"

"Yes, I know they're green, what were you saying?"

"I can't remember."

She laughed, but it wasn't too unkind. She sort of batted her eyelashes a bit. I realized she wasn't trying to flirt, she was trying not to cry. So much for the riled-and-scary Evans.

"What's the matter, Lil?"

"I feel bad that I always yell at you, but you drive me crazy. Why can't you leave me alone?"

"I got Dori on the right track," I said, trying to add a happy note to the conversation. "Maybe things will pick up. It's been a little rough, huh?"

"Don't change the subject," she said, but not like she meant it. Deciding it was safe enough to risk it, I reached out and did touch her cheek this time.

"Hey Evans," I said, putting on my really, really suave voice, "do you want to tutor me in Potions? I could make you a proper love potion next time."

"I definitely want you to get your hands on one of those." She grabbed my hand from her face and tried to push it away. I pulled her hand along with it, into my pocket. "What are you –"

"I promise to speak only in Italian," I said, grinning as she shuffled forward. I tugged experimentally on her arm.

"Give me my hand back, you." She was trying to look mean but she was almost laughing, I could tell.

"What's this? I pick-pocket? Are you trying to steal the key to my heart?"

"No, sir, only to your Gringott's cell." She yanked her hand out, key and all. I gasped.

"Don't make me call for the fortune-hunter police!"

Padfoot leaped through the doorway. "Did I hear my name?"

"NO!" I shouted, so that Evans clapped her hands over her ears and Padfoot leaped back out of the room. I covered her hands with mine.

"Shh," I said, "the scary man is gone now."

She lifted our hands away from her ears. "I heard 'airy maize goo'."

"That was most definitely not what I said." I stepped closer to her and watched her eyes flutter closed. "There, now I can think properly. Your eyes are awfully intense, dear."

"Sorry," she whispered.

"Oh, it's my pleasure."

Her eyes opened again. "James," she said, "when you're being nice, try not to sound too sleazy."

"Sorry."

"It's my pleasure," she said, smirking a little. I was corrupting her already. I brushed her lips with mine.

"I think," here I removed one of my hands from her grasp to thread through her hair, so that I could turn her head a little, "that you need to take things less seriously." I ran the tip of my nose down her ear, and then licked it. I felt her start to pull away in surprise.

"Okay," she said breathily, as I blew on the wet spot.

"Hm. Hold on, I'm going to kiss you again." I did, and then continued. "I also think that I want to take this very, very seriously, and that you should let me."

She leaned back to look at my forehead. "You're still kind of bleeding from where I knocked you into that desk."

"I know, it hurts."

"Sorry. It was instinctive." She touched her fingers to it.

"Maybe you could consider toning that down a bit."

"I learned it from my dad. He's a black belt in karate."

No wonder she couldn't find any boyfriends, between that and me. Scary thought: "Does he have to approve of me before I can date you?"

"Did I even say I would?"

"I thought I could safely assume you were convinced."

"Nope," she said. "Not even close."

"Oh, no, do I have to keep snogging you? Damn, I thought we could skip this part."

"In favour of…?" She raised her eyebrows surprisingly high. I laughed.

"Conversation. It's so stimulating!"

She looked at me thoughtfully. "If I dated you would you find something other than me to converse about?"

"I'd consider it."

"An enticing proposition, on the whole. But I'm unconvinced."

I sighed, and kissed her grudgingly. Then I kissed her cheekbone, and her jawbone, and her collarbone, and pretty much any bone visible, because when I do that they melt in my arms.

"Listen, Potter, I'm going to think this over and get back to you, okay?" she squeaked, dragging herself away.

"Just let me know when I can kiss you minus the kick to the head," I called after her. She grimaced apologetically, blew me a kiss, left, and then ran back in.

"And don't let anyone know, alright? It's just not really my thing."

"What, showing off?" I asked. She narrowed her eyes and growled.

"Just because you do it –"

"Quick, before I unconvince you." I shoved her out the door, managing to get my hand up her shirt in the process. When she was gone I slumped into a desk.

Now my sympathy for Padfoot was real. All this seduction was hard work.

--

**A/N: The father-is-a-black-belt thing is a heads up to my great and, coincidentally, red-headed friend Purrr (that's not really her name, but she's writing this faaabulous d/g right here at fanfiction) whose father (this will shock you) is a black belt in karate! Oh my gosh I did not see that one coming! She also has attacked me for moving too quickly in her presence. Unfortunately she is not a hot male, and thus could not kiss it better.**

**Now that I think about it, if it was going to be a valid comparison I'd have to be the hot male. I wonder if that would be pro or con?**

**You can vote on that too if the whim strikes you.**


	8. Chapter 8: Pranks

_This is the first chapter I have ventured on alone, without the guidance and support of my first-word-girl, who ditched me for Mexico. Thus it is dedicated to my hypothetical Latin lover._

_Oh, and I borrowed a line from some fic or other, can't remember which; Lily's comment on James' ego. I thought it was pretty clever, so this is a _disclaimer_ woo-oo woo-oo I did not write it!_

_Now that I've got that off my consience, I'll see you on the other side…_

Chapter Eight: Pranks

--

"Potter," Evans said, coming up to me in the hall several days later, "I've decided to accept your proposition."

"Oh, great." I moved toward her, but she pressed her palm into my chest to stop me. I took her wrist and started kissing it.

"I'll tutor you in Potions," she said. "You obviously need it more than Italian, and –"

"Evans," I said, in mounting frustration, "I don't want you to tutor me in anything."

"Then why do you keep asking?"

Oh dear God, she was actually surprised. "I want to spend time with you. I thought you got that."

"But Potions –"

"Will be just fine."

"Oh." She blinked a few times. "Well, okay, then. I'll see you in Herbology."

I growled and started after her as she walked away. "Will you go out with me or not?"

"There's not much point, is there? We see each other all the time, and –"

"It's just a formality, Evans, do you not get the concept? It's an excuse for me to kiss you in the halls and stalk you without being in your Creepy Stalker Gang."

"But I don't want to kiss you in the halls."

"What are you, asexual? Everyone wants to kiss me in the halls!"

"I don't," Padfoot said. I wish he would quit sneaking up on me like that.

"As much as I love your input –" I started.

"Gotcha. I'm gone." He winked at Evans and left. I turned back to her.

"Evans, please. Just go out with me."

"But where will we go? There isn't a Hogsmeade weekend for, like, two months."

"What do you think the rest of the school does on their mid-semester dates?"

"Snog. Sometimes swim. But not in January."

I waved my arms around. "Remember who you're talking to? I'm James, I can do whatever I want."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm wanting less and less to be having this conversation."

"Then let's wrap it up. Will you or will you not let me show you the Potter magic?" Ooh, that sounded bad. Quick, how to recover the situation?

"I'm trying to have a conversation with you, not your ego," she snapped.

"Evans, I have an invisibility cloak and a living map of the school. Whatever you feel like doing, we can do. I'm going to wait at the bottom of the stairs on Friday night. If you want me to look like a complete wanker, please, don't come down."

Walking away looked like the best option, so I did, praying that I hadn't riled her up this time. As fun as it was, I hated looking like a wanker on a Friday night.

Especially a Friday night that Padfoot had at least three dates.

--

Dori was back at school the next morning, dry-eyed but grim. It raised a lot of eyebrows that she hadn't waited out the traditional grieving period, but I guess Padfoot hadn't put her off so much as redirected her. And now that she had direction, she wasn't wasting time.

She approached me at lunch. I gathered I wasn't the first by the way she was talking.

"Look, I'm not trying to force you into anything," she was saying as Evans came up behind us. "The last thing we need is another careless little boy. As long as you're willing to be a dedicated member –"

"You're telling me this like you're doing me a favour," I interrupted. "What's in it for me?"

"Saving lives."

"So, like, moral satisfaction." I chewed on my shepherd's pie. "What do you think, Evans?"

"I think you should do it," she said quietly.

I flashed my eyes over to her, surprised at this change of heart. She hadn't sounded nearly so sure the last time I talked to her.

"Dumbledore's organized a Charms program to teach us advanced and ancient magic," she explained. "It's fascinating, and it's possible that it'll get a lot of use later."

"I wonder…" I took another bite while I thought. "Everything we've seen so far has been pretty random – the giants, the raids, that wacked-out Slytherin ritual-burning thing, you know? No connections. It's like ol' Voldie gets an idea and runs with it."

I wondered if Dori would find my calling her parents' murderers "ol' Voldie" offensive. I really hoped not.

So far she and Lily were just looking at me to finish my thought. "Well, who else do we know who does that?"

"The four of you," Evans said slowly. "But pranks are hardly –"

"We need some hot ideas. Padfoot," I said.

"Right here."

"Hot ideas, please."

"I'm thinking girls, I'm thinking mud, I'm thinking Astronomy Tower."

"Does your fantasy involve getting the mud up to the Astronomy Tower, or are you thinking there'll be some up there?"

"Point. Okay, be more specific."

"Weren't you listening in on us just now?"

"I lead a very busy life, Prongs, I don't have time to listen to your prattle all the time."

"You were sitting right there!"

"Yeah, I was listening in."

"So!"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe Scrabble?"

He could be so goddamned difficult sometimes.

"Dori, listen, can I get back to you on this? I'm not sure I'm willing to commit my life to battle here, but maybe I can work something out with Dumbledore, yeah?"

"Sure," she said, "as long as everyone's doing something."

"Thanks, hon." I squeezed her hand. "How are you, by the way?"

"Oh, fine." She smiled widely at me and got up, leaving me in full view of Evans, who was shaking her head. Dori was not fine. But at least she had purpose, I guess.

--

I decided that big life plans or no, I might as well try waiting at the bottom of the girls' stairs Friday night. It got a lot of attention, I won't deny, when I came down in my dress clothes, with a nice flower and such, to stand sentinel-like in the doorway. A couple of first years stared for ten solid minutes, and Padfoot singed his pants in the fire while he was too busy laughing at me to notice.

It didn't take Evans long to come down, looking as lovely as always. I offered my arm and several lavish compliments, both of which she scorned. She did accept the flower, though, and stepped through the Portrait Hole with an air of admirable trust, considering who she was with. I decided to take it as a good sign.

I was nervous as hell and every clever line that crossed my mind I had already used on her friends. "Ever seen the kitchens?" I finally asked.

"No." She looked a bit wary. Maybe she was expecting a nice restaurant.

"We could go out," I said, "but you might want to change your shoes, it's a long trek."

"No, the kitchens are fine."

"Or we could take a look at the Room of Requirement, see what it has to offer."

She sent me a dirty look. Apparently my reputation had preceded me.

"Or… or… the Quidditch pitch? It's really lovely at this time of year, and I've been perfecting a new heating charm – no? Okay, kitchens it is."

She was staring at me. "Perfecting a charm?"

"Yeah." I shuffled my feet. "I'm pretty sure it's not illegal so long as the initial and resulting charms are safe."

"How do you perfect a charm?"

"Play around with it a bit." I looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

She shook her head as though to clear it. "I'm sorry, you're _creating magic_?"

"No no no. Magic doesn't work that way. We're just a medium for kinetic forces in the –"

"I know, Potter, don't condescend."

"Sorry."

"Ungh." She slapped a hand to her forehead. "Is it safe to use yet?"

"Of course, I'm not sure if the humidity's quite right is all. We've been finding the air on the stale side when we make it dry out the ground."

"Ungh," she said again. Finally she burst out, "When did you get to be smart?"

I swallowed a laugh, seeing that she was serious. "Come on, we have to pick some stuff up if we're going to eat. I hope you like walking, the kitchens are about eight floors down."

"Don't you have a shortcut or something?"

I looked up and down the hallway and then grabbed her arm. "As a matter of fact," I said, pulling her into an alcove. "_Dissocio_," I whispered to the wall, tracing a pattern on it, and then stepped back to watch it split in two. "Tada. This'll take us to the floor below the kitchens, but it's well worth it."

"The scenic route?" she said faintly.

"Yeah, there's a nice balcony overlooking the lake partway down." I threaded my fingers through hers and smiled down at her. "Enjoying yourself yet?"

"You're surprising, I'll give you that much."

"Huh. I would have been surprised if I _hadn't_ known a secret passageway."

"I thought those were rumours, about you guys."

"Ha, some of them were. Did you hear the one about the rollercoaster under the Owlery?"

She cracked a smile at that. "Stupid Muggles. And what about the hopscotch fiasco in fourth year? Oh, and someone told me Remus was a werewolf, doesn't that just take the cake?"

I stopped in my tracks. "Who told you that?"

"Um." She was eyeing me warily, so I moderated my tone and said,

"He doesn't need any more rumours about him than there are already. I hope you told whoever it was to shove it."

"_Fannullone_, I said to him, _chiudere il becco_." She waved her free hand around to express her disgust. I blinked.

"Huh?"

"What?"

"Was that English or am I crazy?"

"I thought I'd better test your knowledge. Pop quiz, hot shot, what'd I just say?"

I considered. "Lazy bum?"

"Correct."

I shook my head in amusement. "Aaand… shut up?"

"You win a prize." She grinned at me. "Would you like a shiny star?"

"Can I pick my own prize?"

"If you must."

"How about a bouncy ball?"

She looked disappointed but went for her wand. I took the opportunity to take her by the elbows and pull her closer. I kissed her nose. "Or we could compromise."

"Hmph. I can make you a bouncy ball if that's what you want."

"It is," I sighed. "It holds beautiful memories for me. You see, Padfoot and I once –"

"Prongs!" came an echoing voice from down the hall. "What have I told you about mentioning me to your girlfriends? They alwaays leeave yooou!"

"Get the hell away from me, you stalker!" I shouted back. I heard a giggle from his date. And then another, slightly different one. I frowned. How had he managed that?

Evans had covered her mouth with her hand to stop from laughing at me. "Let's go see what they're doing," she said.

"Christ, don't prove him right," I groaned, too late.

When I caught up they were seated in a circle. Padfoot had what looked like twins with him, one on either side, and Evans in front. She patted the ground. "Come, they're playing a game."

"What game?" I said suspiciously.

"Word association," one of the twins said. For clarity, let's call her Twin One.

Twin Two kissed Padfoot's cheek. "Strip word association. Look how good he is at it."

And indeed, Padfoot was wearing far more clothing than either of them.

"Come on, Evans, I don't want them sullying your innocent mind." I tugged at her hand, but she didn't budge.

"It sounds like fun."

"It won't last. Mm, did I tell you what wonderful cake the house-elves make?"

"Sit," she said, in that controlling voice that I love so much. I sat.

"Padfoot, I hate you."

"Does everyone know each other?" he asked, blissfully unaware of my feelings.

"Hi, Lily," The Twins said. "And we assume you're James," Twin Two added. "I'm Gretchen and this is Greta."

"Nice," I said untruthfully. Actually I thought their names were stupid.

"Whose turn is it?" Lily asked.

"Mine," said Twin One. "Sirius started with 'Gherkin', Gretchen said 'pickle', and I'm going to do 'cucumber'.

"Potatoe," Evans said promptly. "That counts, right?"

"Sure," Padfoot told her, sending a devil-may-care grin her way. To her credit, she didn't notice. She was too busy looking at me.

Ha! ha! ha!

I knew how to play this out.

"Salad," I said with all the confidence of a master. Padfoot was keeping a close eye on me but he'd never win.

"Lettuce."

As if that could stop me.

"Vegetation," said Twin Two. I could have kissed her.

"Forest."

"Mountain."

"Lily-of-the-valley," I said triumphantly, and Padfoot groaned.

"Jesus Christ, Prongs, give it up!"

"Take it off kids, you knew I'd get there in the end. Ha ha ha!" I crowed.

Padfoot covered his eyes as Evans took off a sock. "Am I safe to look?"

"No," I said. She slapped my arm.

"It's just a foot, James."

"Showing a little ankle there, are we?" Padfoot said. "I'm shocked."

"Oh! Shocking!" said Twin One. I was starting to get the feeling they didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Well, ladies," Padfoot said, dropping a hand onto each of the Twins' calves, "are we ready to move on?"

"Oh, yes," they said, jumping up. "These two are very boring."

"At last, commiseration." Padfoot put his arms around them and walked off.

I offered a hand to Evans. "Shall we?"

"Let's keep playing," she said, climbing into my lap. I do have that effect on people.

--

**A/N: Having gotten no response whatsoever on last chapter's vote, I'm going to give it another go. This one is a pop Word Association quiz. Get from 'Toast' to 'Death' in seven words or less (that was the least I could think of off-hand) and I will incorporate the scene of your choice into chapter nine! Example:**

**Toast  Jelly  Apples  Snow White  Poison  Death**

**Get at it, kids!**


	9. Chapter 9: Divination

_Many thanks to Purrr, who beta-read this chap, and props to everyone for participating in Strip Word Association (You Associate 'Em, We Strip 'Em!). The following prizes will be awarded:_

_First place to WhiteCamellia for innovation. Second to First Word Girl (henceforth FWG) for being the shortest and her prize is the locker room scene. Third to hnz786 for giving an idea so open to my own discretion (Lily and James sure will do whatever I want). And fourth is a tentative reminiscence on their date (modeltd09), because finishing it is just too damn awkward. THIS IS A DISCLAIMER WOO-OO those parts weren't exactly my idea. More with Dori and Sirius next chapter, kmk25… Malfoy.draco malfoy's word association was v amusing, and star dragon pixie's did not make sense. Sorry, I don't get the connection. _

_I also want to disclaim "Ha! Ha! Ha!" which I think is hysterical, and originated (as I know it) from The Growing Pains of Draco Malfoy, check it out on my favourites._

_Um, that's it. Hopefully FWG won't be so DISAPPOINTED this time. Blegh to you._

--

Chapter Nine: Divination

--

"_Here stands Severus Snape, on the night of his initiation to become one of the chosen servants to the Dark Lord, who call themselves Death Eaters in reverence to their cause. The Dark Mark has been branded on him, forever binding him soul to soul with his brothers and sisters in darkness. His blood he has pledged and his use to the Dark Lord shown, through courage and skill in battle. Henceforth he shall stand at the left hand of the Dark Lord, to have and to hold, from this day forward…"_

The bored voice continued, but Snape was sprouting auburn hair and Lord Voldemort's features were melting into my (may I say more attractive) ones. I snapped awake, gasping for air, to see my friends standing around me.

"My God, I'm a Seer," I said, awestruck.

"Prongs, mate, you alright?" Padfoot said nervously. I ignored him.

"Snivellus is at a Death Eater meeting, and I'm going to marry Lily Evans."

"What did she do to you?" Padfoot asked, sounding horrified. Maybe he thought she had passed Seer tendencies on to me through her kisses. I'd never heard of that happening before. Hell, from what I knew Evans was failing Divination.

"That's it!" I exclaimed. I could tutor her in Divination! I could teach her to become one with the future!

"'What did she _do_?"

"Snogged me, of course, and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. And stroked my hair," I added as an afterthought.

"I told you that gel works magic," Peter said. Ha. My hair is as soft as a bearded alpaca without his stupid gel.

I leaped up. "I have to sign up for Divination. Oh, and fetch me the map, we're going to intercept Snivellus on his way back in."

"Um, Prongs," Padfoot said from my bed, where he was studying the map in question. "He's in his dorm."

"What? Let me see." I snatched it from him. "Of course," I breathed. "If I'm a Seer this hasn't happened yet."

"Not to throw cold water on any big ideas here," Remus said, "but you don't think it could have been a dream? And that's it?"

I wrinkled my nose. "Dreams are for girls. Come on, we might as well accomplish something. We're not going to get any sleep tonight anyway."

"Speak for yourself," Pete muttered.

"Come, children!" I clapped my hands. "Let's go interrogate Snape."

"Wouldn't it be more productive to, like, rig a couple of Filibuster's under his bed or something?"

"Good man. We'll do a five o'clock bucket-of-pumpkin juice wake-up call too, that should activate the fireworks."

Remus put up his hand. "Motion that you go snog Lily or something. I'm sleepy."

"You're always tired," I said. Peter was snoring melodically/determinedly/frantically, so I grabbed Padfoot and we left to have fun without them.

Giving Remus credit where it was due, however, I considered his motion while we worked and decided that it was a good one. When we got back to the dorms we went up the girls' staircase; Padfoot stayed with the seventh years and I went through to the Head Girl suite.

Evans had a really lovely room, shimmering in the moonlight and such. She herself lay under a soft duvet, her arm thrown across a pillow and her mouth hanging open. I crawled in next to her.

"Mmph," she said, opening her eyes a crack. "Potter? What are you doing here?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

She rolled over to look at her clock. "It's four in the morning, James. Go back to bed."

"I couldn't sleep." I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her neck. "I was dreaming about our wedding, and then –"

"Whoa there, cowboy. Nobody's getting married."

Crud. I bet in all those Seer books there's something about keeping your mouth shut. "I know. It was just a dream. And then I missed you."

"It's been like five hours since you saw me."

"My point exactly."

"You sound like a sta-a-lker." She yawned widely. "I'm going back to sleep. Steal my blankets and I break your jaw."

I smiled at her. And then I lay awake until breakfast, on the morning of a very important Quidditch match.

Crud.

--

"I want a high-scoring game, so Chasers, keep it tight. And I want lots of Beater action. Don't forget what we've been practicing and we can't lose. We're solid and we're wi-" I yawned. "Winners."

"Way to prep us up," Padfoot said. "Hey, Dawson, keep on yawning, you're bound to catch the Snitch eventually!"

Everyone trooped out, laughing merrily. The stands were packed and screaming, the sun was shining, and Regulus Black was standing opposite me ready to break my hand.

"Looking good," I said when I reached him, glancing briefly to a blood-caked gash on his forehead. "Your boyfriend didn't catch you when you tripped?"

"Naw, didn't you see Snivellus this morning?" Padfoot put in from beside me. He was glaring at his brother, stance casual but tense. "Looks like the lovers had a tiff. What did you do, put firecrackers under his bed?"

"Oh, my," I said, cutting off Regulus' furious retort. "I should have been more sensitive." Hooch was closing in, so I held out my hand, smiling winningly.

"Ready?" Hooch said, kicking open the box at her feet and blowing the whistle. I nipped in front of Regulus and snatched the Quaffle from him. Padfoot and Longbottom, our third Chaser, boxed him in; he was the best flyer on their team, we didn't want him catching the wind I made as I passed him.

I dodged a Bludger and slammed the ball past the Keeper, ducking under the goalposts to catch it on the other side.

"10-zero to Gryffindor, and Potter's flying on form today, with a neat pass to Black, that's Sirius, not Regulus," the announcer boomed. "And it's Potter, Black, Potter, Longbottom, Black, Potter, and another score, 20-zero Gryffindor!"

Regulus grabbed the Quaffle from me with a snarl. "Clean it up, Nott!" he spat at the Keeper.

"He's _not_ going to do it," I sang.

"Can_not_ save a thing," Padfoot shouted back, laughing as we circled his brother.

"'Tis _black_ the horizon, Nott's _not_ got those – augh!" I dodged a Bludger only to have another nail me from behind. I sailed off my broom, pulling out my wand as I fell. "_Accio_ broom! Dawson, Snitch to your left!" I grabbed my Silver Arrow and swung myself on.

"Potter is back on his broom, nice bit of work from the Slytherin Beaters, and Dawson is after the Snitch, closely tailed by Black, that's Andromeda, look's like it's a family match this – ohh, was that a foul? Nope, a fair hit to the face for Potter, try and stop the bleeding there. Slytherin seems to be targetting Potter, not a bad strateg– ohh, _that_ was cobbing. Dawson has elbowed Andromeda and it's a penalty shot for Slytherin, missed, Regulus has it and he's passing it to MacNair, Dobbs, and Regulus puts it through, 30-20 to Slyther – ohh, what's this? Sirius Black has crashed into his own teammate! What's he saying?"

"Stay the hell away from my cousin, Dawson!"

"In an unexpected fit of clannishness, Sirius is not happy about that attack on Andromeda. What's the verdict, Hooch?"

Sirius was in a furious argument with her; she seemed to be trying to get him off the pitch.

"Five minute penalty for Sirius Black, unnecessary attack on a teammate," the announcer said. "Not even sure that's a valid penalty, but I've never heard of this happening…"

I was already playing doubly hard to make up for Sirius, and the Beaters were still after me. I looped Regulus, thinking they might take him out by accident, but they backed off. I nudged against him.

"Quaffle, boy," I said, punching it through his arms, snatching it from below and steaming off. Dawson nearly rammed me as he dove after the Snitch; Andromeda, close behind, did. She grinned at me in passing. I looked around. "Longbottom, get on that Quaffle!"

He already had it and it was soaring at me when a Bludger hit it from the side. I switched to a dive, rolled to catch it and dodged Nott.

"Nott – Nott – not gonna stop me!" I sang, tossing the Quaffle over my head through each of the hoops. I dropped the ball to Longbottom.

"Dawson is trying that Wronski Feint again, it's getting old, buddy, and Andromeda is ignoring him – in fact – she seems to have seen it herself! They're after it and – 70-60 Gryffindor, nice shot there, MacNair – and Potter has the Quaffle, passing this time – whoops, interception as the Bludger's go for him again, Dobbs turns around and – back to Potter, very smooth recovery, he's looking to stop those Seekers, or else he's gone mad – Potter, the goalpost is that-a-way!"

"The goalpost is that-a-way!" the crowd screamed, pointing in different directions. I barelled on, cutting Andromeda off just as she reached for the Snitch and then doubling back. "Longbottom, Padfoot, positions!"

They dropped in below me, and I pitched it at Longbottom. He passed it to Padfoot, who dodged Regulus, who signalled for the Beaters. "Damn," I muttered. "Longbottom, take my place!"

He didn't question the change in tactic, accepting the hand-off from Padfoot as I flew under them. "Okay, Frankie, back at me and we'll try Plan Susan." That was Padfoot's really brilliant name for our rotating X formation. I didn't think it would work, not with MacNair getting in everybody's way.

"And the Gryffindor Chasers have given up on the Hawkshead Attack, the Beaters from both teams are closing in, this won't be pretty – it's Longbottom, Black, Potter, Black recovers as Potter has lost his broom for the third time today – fourth? – ohh, Black and Black are fighting over the Quaffle, fists to yourselves, boys. Gonna call it, Hooch? Oh, no point, the female Black has broken them up, followed by Dawson – that's the Snitch!"

A gasp from the crowd. I came up behind Padfoot just as he ducked his broom, leaving the Quaffle hovering for me. I grabbed it and lobbed it through the air.

"Nott is about to miss that Quaffle, nice curve there, it's gonna be 120-80 for Gryffindor in a – no! Andromeda has got the Snitch! Slytherin wins 230-120 as Black and Black get into a fistfight after all, Potter's in there too, dripping blood everywhere, I see, and – somebody get those bats away from the Beaters!"

"For shame!" Hooch was screaming, wrestling with whomever was nearest.

"-Defiled the family name –"

"You fucking Death Eater, get the –"

"Woo!" the Beaters from both sides shouted, leaping into the fray. I decided that there was enough going on, and went to drown myself in the showers.

--

I sat alone in the locker room, the rest of the team having been sent trudging up to the Hospital Wing. The door creaked open.

"Way to sneak out, Padfoot," I said, not looking up. I unstrapped my gloves and pulled my uniform over my head.

"Hey."

I looked up in surprise. "Evans."

"Good game."

I shrugged, unable to speak.

"You're still in the lead."

"I guess."

"That Andromeda's a good flyer," Evans said, walking over. I ignored her, trying to focus on changing and getting the hell away. "I was starting to get jealous."

"You don't fly," I said before I could stop myself.

"Way to state the blindingly obvious." She rested her cheek against my back and ran her hands down my sides.

"Let me put a shirt on, okay? And then we can go to Hogsmeade or something." I sighed in a depressed sort of way.

"Let's take my shirt off instead, and stay right here."

I turned around and stared. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing, yet." She waggled her eyebrows. "I have been _allupato_," she whispered, "thanks to your powerful influence on the male population."

More waggling. I sighed again. "How many people got expelled today?"

"None. Dumbledore understands perfectly, it was just a family brawl."

"How many games were lost?" I was determined to find something to whine about.

"None." She stood on tiptoe to kiss my nose. "It was a moral victory."

"Oh, thanks."

"No problem. Come on, hug." She stepped back and held out her arms. I moved forward. She stepped back. "Come and get it."

I sat down on the floor. "I have at least three cracked ribs, I don't even want a hug."

"Aw, Jamesie, I forgot." She crouched down in front of me. I lunged, overbalancing her and falling on top.

"Hug?" I said, grinning. I put my hand up her skirt just as McGonagall walked in.

"JAMES POTTER! DO YOU WANT ME TO TERMINATE YOUR _ENTIRE _TEAM? GET YOURSELVES BACK IN LINE, NOW!"

I jumped up.

"Oh, hello, Evans," McGonagall said in surprise. "Dumbledore's looking for you both."

--

**A/N: What on earth does Dumbledore want? Will he reprimand them? Expel them? Assign them a project to live in a hut in the woods and bear many children? Read on to find out!**

**No, I can't leave you hanging. A hint, a hint! He suspects them of… felony!**

**No, really.**

… **arson!**

… **unkindliness!**

… **good looks!**

**And in that last he is correct. Further disclaimers: there was 'a moral victory' swiped from Friends, a really lame innuendo from someone I know aaand… many, many others, no doubt. Wait, I found a new one. "Oh, thanks" is a nod to Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights. If you recognize anything from your own fic, stop drop and roll!**

**Mini "Refresher" Glossary**

**_Allupato_ - _adj._ (familiar) hungry for sex, especially after a long period of celibacy**

**With regards to Lily: this is a New Vote. Would Lily instigate anything? I think she's trying to cheer him up, but the winds cry "out of character!" So hit me up with your thoughts.**


	10. Chapter 10: The Bestiary

_A/N: Sorry for the long wait, for which I will provide no excuses._

_Only facts. I was attacked by a horde of womabts! It was terrible. I was at the zoo as a bonding experience with my mother, and in a last getaway attempt this madwoman in a jeep came barrelling through and smashed open the gate to the wombat pen on her way by. They immediately charged out and started licking me, I just got away a few minutes ago. Of course I started writing the next chapter at once, so here you go. Credit to J.K. et al._

_Word of the day – exfoliate_

_Song of the day – Scarborough Fair_

_Time of the day – 10:29_

--

Chapter Ten: The Bestiary

--

I had been to Dumbledore's office regularly since I started causing trouble in first year, and assumed that Lily would have as well. I must have guessed wrong; she was shaking like a leaf and had lost the nerve she had had half an hour before.

"Hey," I whispered, dropping back to walk beside her. McGonagall swept on ahead of us, rather like a marital procession. This put me in a great mood.

"What?" Lily snapped.

"What do you reckon this is about?"

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod –"

"We're not in trouble," I said. Obviously. I hadn't done anything wrong, believe me. I knew the rule-book back to front, having gotten detention for everything in it."

"I'm not allowed in the locker room." She covered her face with her hand. "I'm _Head Girl_, Potter! What was I _thinking_?"

I growled. "Potter, is it?"

She didn't answer. Her teeth were chattering too hard. We went up in silence, then sat in the office looking around. Or at least she did. I was stealing lemon drops as surreptitiously as I could.

"James," said a voice from aboive. Lily snapped her head around guiltily. I sat back and crossed my legs to hide the bulge in my pants.

From the lemon drops, you sicko.

"Lily," the voice continued, "thank you for coming so promptly." Dumbledore made his way down from the balcony he had appeared at, and stopped next to his Pensieve cupboard. I narrowed my eyes.

"Sir," I started. Lily chose that moment to crack.

"I'm sorry, Professor! I didn't mean any of it! I'll never go into the boys' locker room again!"

Dumbledore blinked. "I wasn't aware you had."

Oh, he so totally was.

"I HAVEN'T," she burst out belatedly. I shook my head with a sigh.

"Amateur," I muttered.

"I beg your pardon?" he said.

"I was about to ask why you wanted to see us," I said cooly, ignoring Lily's hysterical panting from my left.

"Miss Evans," Dumbledore said gently, "would you like a lemon drop? I'm sure James would be happy to oblige."

"I have lots," I said, pulling out a handful. She took one and calmed right down.

"I called you here for a venture back in time," Dumbledore said. "Into my own mind. As Head Boy and Girl in these dangerous times, I feel that you should know everything you possibly can about the situation at hand."

He paused, and when we didn't say anything he continued. "I don't believe you've used a Pensieve before, Lily."

"No," she said, "but I understand the concept."

"Good. In that case, let us proceed. All you need to know now, is that this particular memory took place some five years ago, not long after Tom Riddle, known as 'Lord Voldemort', began to publicize his views. I'm sure we will have much to discuss afterward.

He turned and lifted out the Pensieve, placing it on his desk. "James, would you go first?"

I nodded and plunged my head into the bowl. Dumbledore and Lily landed beside me moments later, Lily white and shaking.

"For next time, a little less enthusiasm will suffice," Dumbledore told her, steadying her as she wobbled. She whimpered.

"I was scared the first time too," I said in my gentlest voice.

"That was because you missed and came back with a black eye and three broken ribs," she said. Apparently her bad mood was persistent. I waved my hand to catch Dumbledore's attention.

"What are you looking at, sir?"

Dumbledore pointed his former self out in the crowd. There was a gathering of what were obviously witches and wizards, clustered around some sort of pit. Towards the centre of them, Past Dumbledore was crouched down to look at the dirt. Around him, a press of reporters were talking into their quills at top speed.

"… We suspect there may be giant involvement, rumours are flying that they're mounted on Norwegian Ridgebacks, whose scales are often carriers of a rare and deadly…"

"… the tragic loss of several members of the McKinnon family, who are prominent in the Ministry and who, though several Aurors had been assigned to guard them, unwittingly walked into…"

"Marlene, if asked to describe your cousins in a few words, what would you say?"

Dumbledore gestured us over to a space in the crowd, so that we could see Past Dumbledore siphoning something out of the dirt with his wand. He poured it into a glass vial, which he then tucked into his cloak before standing and making his way back through the crowd.

"That was dragon blood," Dumbledore told us. "Move quickly, now, we don't want to lose me."

We hiked down the street, past shops and offices, until the white head in front of us disappeared into the ground. It seemed he had gone into some sort of basement thing. We ran in after him, afraid to miss anything.

It was a small room, dingy and badly in need of painting. There were tables set up along one wall, that were loaded with strange-looking equipment, bobbles and squigglies and what looked like Muggle screwdrivers. A Healer, who I recognized from my father's team, was peering through a sort of microscope thing at a drop of the blood.

"I'm going to have to take this apart and send it in to be tested, Dumbledore," the Healer said. "Any rush on this?"

"If you could, thank you, Muriel. I'd like to be in Peru by the end of this week."

She gasped. "You think it will be a Vipertooth, then?"

"I'm almost positive. There must be some truth to the dragon rumours, and I haven't seen anything like these bites since the last Vipertooth attack. You know, of course, that a Vipertooth is the only dragon that can be effectively trained?"

Muriel made a non-commital gesture with her head, that showed she didn't know, but didn't want to look like an idiot.

"Yes, and they're large enough they could easily carry giants. I don't know whether that's at all likely, but if Voldemort is looking for effect…"

He subsided, lost in thought. Muriel continued poking around at the substance. Finally she cried, "Albus! Come and look at this. Do you see those green flecks?"

His face pressed to the eyepiece, Past Dumbledore said, "Yes, what are they?"

"They look like – I'd hate to be wrong – well, no, I'd hate to be right, but I really don't want to spread a panic – let me just look it up." She crouched down and dug below the table, coming out with an enormous book. "Here, take a look at this. Does it look like the same thing to you?"

As they pored over the book, Dumbledore came closer to say, "What we were looking at, both in the book and in the blood sample, was a magically modified form of bundimun. Have you learned about that?"

When we shook our heads, he said, "By definition, it is a fungus whose secretions can rot away almost anything. It's a slow process in such a diluted form, so we still haven't found the full effects, but we're working on a sort of counteracting agent. At the time I had a theory that Voldemort was injecting it into the bloodstream of the dragons so that even when the dragons were killed, lasting damage would be done."

"That's horrible!" Lily gasped.

"Fortunately, it is also untrue. When we received the blood sample's results back we found them to point almost entirely toward the giants. We still aren't sure whether they're using Peruvian Vipertooths, though I think they probably are. But the point of this memory is our discovery that giants can survive with trace amounts of bundimun in their bloodstream. You can imagine the result if we even scratched a giant in battle."

"So Voldemort was finding a way to keep us from killing his giants?" I said slowly. "Or just trying to make things harder for everyone."

"A little of both, no doubt. Sh, we're about to leave, this part is vital."

"In that case, Albus, you won't go to Peru?"

"No," Past Dumbledore said grimly, "I think my talents are better put to use elsewhere. If you find anything out about those dragons, please contact me at once. Otherwise, tell the Order that I'll be in East Africa tracking nundus."

Muriel nodded, and Past Dumbledore made his way to the door. The Dumbledore between us grasped our elbows and pulled us out of the Pensieve. When we were seated in front of him he folded his hands and said,

"I believe you study nundus in Care of Magical Creatures."

We nodded numbly. Nundus are reputed as the most dangerous creature, giant leapords who hunt in packs in the least populated areas of darkest Africa; namely, because nothing survives them. Nothing.

"Voldemort couldn't possibly control them, could he?" Lily asked, her voice higher than usual.

"I don't believe so," Dumbledore said, "not to any extent that could make it worthwhile to him. However, what I saw in Africa was much more terrible than nundus."

I was starting to feel a little depressed and wished he'd stop coming out with all these plots against us. I didn't want to know.

"There is a flourishing chimaera trade that has extended all the way up to the Mediterranean, which was the cause of Dai Lleweleyn's tragic death." He nodded to me, as a salute to my grief when my favourite Quidditch player was slaughtered by one of the stupid beasts. "As a Class A Non-Tradable Good, it won't get too far into Europe, but Africa has very little magical law enforcement and is a breeding ground for chimaeras and the like.

"The point of today's meeting, however, is not to dwell on such things. I would like the two of you – both very talented, bright young minds – to go out today with all of this in mind, and try to think of anything you can. I don't care if it's solutions, premonitions, foolish theories, or nothing at all; just think, and let me know if you come up with anything at all."

One of his words reminded me of something. "Professor," I said, "it's recently come to light that I have a gift as a Seer. Is it too late to enroll in Divination?"

"Yes," he said, "that's the worst idea I've ever heard. Get out of my office."

We slouched out. On the other side I suggested that we study up on our scary beasts together, and Lily agreed, and then we held hands and walked through the halls. It felt pretty nice after all of that.

--

**A/N… hmm. I did not expect to give you folks a mythical zoology lesson but okay. Disclaimer – the Lexicon was a huge help in this. If you haven't been there, go now! Shoo! And then come back when I've written a new chapter.**

**Have a v. Harry day, everyone.**


	11. Chapter 11: Not Quite As Good

_While I was sleeping sweetly last night, I was hit by a bit of a Plot Bunny, in the form of the Lovely Marco (if you haven't read the Animorphs, you definitely want to. They're dreadful, but Marco! ah, Marco! Love of my life!). It was actually really weird because it started off with my psycho family turning to stone and breaking (and also a chimaera. This story is infesting my mind!), but that wasn't happy so my brain said 'Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts!' and Marco responded. And he said 'I am here!' and I said 'Marco! Love of my life!' and he said 'You know, James _is_ an Animagus.'_

_That's not actually what he said, but for the purpose of the story…_

_Credit to K.A. Applegate for one of the hotter fictional characters in non-existence! (Applause please.) Also to Jill because many ideas/people (Marvy)/first words were used with her input. And to J.K. – if you don't know why, you shouldn't be here. And to myself, for posting... finally.  
_

--

Chapter Eleven: Not Quite As Good As Lifesavers, But Pretty Damn Close

--

White is the colour of pineapple lifesavers. I'm not going to deny that I like the flavour. It's got this aftertaste that's exactly like my mother's upside-down cake, and it really hits the spot.

White is also the colour of Lily's skin. Ironically, lilies-of-the-valley are the exact same shade, though without veins and hair.

I was pondering this over breakfast the day after our encounter with Dumbledore, when Dori came up and sat beside me.

"Oh no, not you," I said.

"It's time."

"Time for what?" I looked her over suspiciously, thinking she might be hiding some kind of deadly poison that she intended to slip me. Her answer was worse than that.

"I've stolen Dumbledore's Pensieve. Are you ready?"

I scowled at her. I was already regretting my Plan. It had all happened the previous evening, in a quiet corner of the Common Room…

_Doo_

_ Doo_

_ Doo_

_It was a dark and stormy night. Sinister plots were brewing; first years were parading about, bellowing and stomping their feet; Head Girls were tossing their hair and screaming in a vain attempt to maintain order (it was actually quite hot). Unbeknownst to the rest, however, a group of elite new members of the Order of the Phoenix worked tirelessly to develop a scheme to overthrow the reign of the Dark Lord…_

_ Doo_

_ Doo_

_Doo_

And that was pretty much it. We basically sat around drawing little stick men and making them act out our lousy ideas. Or, in Padfoot's case, playing hangman. For some reason Dori thought all this was productive, and managed to talk McGonagall into borrowing the Pensieve, which she then proceeded to steal and hide in the kitchens. Why there, I have no idea. Maybe as a lure for Padfoot, she really seemed to enjoy him.

I pushed myself to my feet with a heavy sigh. "Oh, Dori," I said. "When will you learn to tell a crappy idea from a good one?"

"Ha. Your idea of a good idea is to make everyone in the Great Hall sneeze or some such tosh." She sniffed.

I gave her a funny look to display my disgust at her lack of imagination, and then waved my wand to display my magical capabilities. There was an outbreak of sneezing at the Slytherin table. "Gosh, that was difficult. Wherever do you come up with these clever schemes?"

"Achoo," said Snape, as Dori glared.

"Okay, here's the deal," she said, dropping her voice to a hushed whisper once we were out in the Entrance Hall. "You're going to go into the Pensieve and see if you can find any useful memories. Sirius and I will stand watch."

"Just as I suspected," I said darkly. They would snog while I wasted my time. Then I brightened up at a sudden thought. "Hey, can Evans come with me?"

"No, she's tutoring some Ravenclaw until – something wrong?"

"No, nothing," I rasped, trying to regain control of my spit, which had chosen that moment to wander into my windpipe. "Ack, ack. Did you say Ravenclaw?"

"Yeah, that what's-his-face, Mitchell or something."

I narrowed my eyes. So. Marvy Mitch was after my honeycakes. If he thought he'd get anywhere with her…

"Sorry, I've got somewhere I need to be." I bolted toward the library. The quiet, nook-filled, empty library. The library that was used only for snogging and social outcasts. As I knew the latter to be false, I could only assume...

"Mitchell!" I bellowed, tearing down an aisle and leaping over a table. "Get your dirty hands off of her! Oh." I pulled up short. "Where is she?"

Mitch raised one elegant eyebrow. "She isn't here yet," he drawled. "I take it you're jealous, Potter? Thought you could get some?" He stood up suddenly. "You were wrong!" he thundered.

"I'll have you know that she has been MY girlfriend for EIGHT days." I glowered down my nose at him. "So you can bugger the hell off."

"Pillock!" he cried, striking at my face. I blocked his attempt and landed one in his stomach.

"Berk!"

"Wanker!"

Then I got him into a headlock and wouldn't let go until he swore to give up.

He sat back down. I joined him.

"So. What's she tutoring you in?"

"Italian," he said shamelessly.

"You speak Italian!"

"Shh," he said, sending a furtive glance down the aisles. "No I don't."

"Yes you do, you have the place next to me in Venice."

"Well, come on, it wasn't a bad way to get her."

"Yeah it is, I already tried."

"Really." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "What worked, then?"

"I pretty much dragged her into an empty classroom and snogged her."

"Huh. Maybe I should do that."

I jumped at him, knocking the table flying. "Fuori di testa, un saccente! You will die with quattro gatti!"

"James!" came a shocked voice from behind me. "He will not die with any cats, let alone four, he has asthma. And you've conjugated 'You're out of your mind' wrong."

"Sorry," I said, brushing myself off. "I was a little distracted."

"What are you doing here? I thought Dori said you were going to help her with something."

"Yeah, but it was stupid. She just wanted an excuse to get Sirius by himself."

"Hm." Lily leaned past me to look at Mitchell. "All right down there?"

He waved a weary hand.

"Come on," I said, "let's get out of here. He won't be doing any studying for a while."

We trudged out of the library and were all set for a long, meaningless conversation when Fate intervened, in the form of Padfoot.

"Prongs," he gasped, "you've got to see this." He clutched a stitch in his side, waving us on with the other hand.

"What is it? Did you go into the Pensieve?"

He shook his head and kept moving. Passing the basement door, he led us straight out onto the lawn.

"Oh no…"

Hagrid's house was on fire. It wasn't very bad; he had it under control already. However, the fact that it was burning meant something, and 'something' was probably big and scary.

Naturally Padfoot had recovered and was tearing across the grounds screaming his head off. I cast a Silencing Charm before he alerted the whole castle to the fact that Hagrid was doing something illegal. Then I turned to Lily.

"Chances are this is going to be dangerous," I said.

"Should we get a teacher?"

"No! Just decide whether you're coming or not."

"Of course I am." She drew out her wand. "Do you think Hagrid could be hurt?"

I shrugged and took off after Padfoot.

By the time we got there Hagrid was making tea. He smelled very badly of singed fabric, but they had cleaned up the worst of the mess and restored the wall. I still scanned the room before letting Lily enter, though, saying,

"What happened, Hagrid?"

"Oh, jus' a li'l thing, yeh know… bit o' this, bit o' tha'."

"Was it a dragon?" Padfoot asked excitedly.

"'Course not," Hagrid said, trying to sound severe. "Tha's illegal."

I grinned. "And what you were doing definitely wasn't."

"No, no. Jus' a bit o' cross-breedin' gone wrong."

I choked on my rock cake. "What! What were you breeding?"

Hagrid looked stern all of a sudden. "You kids min' yer own business. 'S not up to yeh to decide what I'm doin'."

"Ah, Hagrid," Padfoot said, "don't make us think you were doing anything wrong. We wouldn't want to have to report you."

"As if yeh would!" Hagrid scoffed, but looked a little nervous.

"I don't know, Black, this sounds a bit dodgy to me." I tipped my chair back, pretending to study my nails.

"All righ', I guess I could tell yeh," Hagrid said, scowling. "I's not like I shouldn' have it. I've got a Fire-Crab."

"Wicked! Can we see it?" Padfoot ran to check under the bed.

"I wouldn' keep it there, yeh great lump! Think I wanna set fire to my house?"

I leveled a look at him, and he flushed. "Look, it got away," he said. "I got it back! It was jus' fer a mo."

"What are you breeding it with, Hagrid?" Lily asked. I nodded my approval.

"Nice catch. That why you're looking so keen to get rid of us?"

Hagrid sniffed. "Huh! Who's pourin' yer tea?"

"Don't try to change the subject," Padfoot warned. "We're going to find out sooner or later, you know."

"Yeah, I reckon you will. All righ', but look, don' tell anyone. Don' wanna get caught in some kind o' – o' legal dealie." Padfoot and I exchanged excited glances. This was going to be good. "There's a manticore in the Forest."

"A WHAT?"

"You didn't actually manage to breed it, did you?" I asked, a trifle faintly. He shook his head.

"Nah. 'S on'y a matter o' time, though."

"How did it get into the Forest?" Lily asked. She was clutching the edge of the table and taking deep breaths, which I took to be a bad sign. I poured her more tea and shoved it into her hands.

"More importantly, how are we going to get it out?"

"Yeah, we could set it on the Slytherins!" Padfoot exclaimed.

"We should tell Dumbledore," I continued, ignoring him, "they're supposed to be really intelligent, we don't want it wandering around eating first years."

"But they come from Greece, don't they?" Lily asked. "How in the world would we get it back there?"

"Nah, they're from all over," Hagrid said. "Mos' suited to Greece but they'll get by anywhere."

"Lily," I said, thinking hard, "didn't Dumbledore tell us about a big chimaera trade going on in that area?"

"Yes, but he said they won't get into Europe because of our laws."

"And now a Greek beastie shows up… hmm. I think I may be on to something."

"If you think Voldemort is in Greece –"

"That doesn't really matter. I'm thinking we should be in Greece."

"What? To take the manticore back? Why?"

"Well, anywhere in the Mediterranean would do. Do you think your parents would let you stay at my villa for a few days?"

_To be continued…_

--

**A/N: Aaaaaahh sleepover! Maybe they'll have a pool party and play truth or dare!**

**No, never.**

**The Animagus thing didn't actually crop up in this chapter, but I think I'm finally getting around to connecting my various plots. Hip hip! Hurray! I heard the funniest clarinet the other day, doing staccato scales. It sounded just like that. Hip! hip! hip! It was so cute.**

**Live long and prosper, friends.**


	12. Chapter 12: Not Quite As Good Part II

_I am soooo sorry I took so long and I really really hope you didn't all desert me but I wouldn't blame you if you had._

_But this is cool. Looks like we've got ourselves a two-part chap. This one goes out to my mom, who would probably disown me if she knew I was wasting my time on HP ff, and to all the real fans who like it despite a COMPLETE LACK OF FAMILIAL SUPPORT. Gah!_

_Disclaimer says yes yes! J.K. wrote the books, we write the fiction squared._

--

Chapter Tweve: Not Quite As Good As Lifesavers, But Pretty Damn Close (Part II)

--

Dreams should never, never, never involve Snape.

But lately, mine had been.

It started innocently enough. A curse here, a hex there, no biggie. A little worrisome but not too shab. Then one night I woke up screaming.

"For Christ's sake!" Padfoot bawled as he smothered me with his pillow, "put a Silencing Charm on if you're going to – oomph!" I pitched him off and threw his bedclothes after him. " – foresee anything horrible, I need my beauty sleep!" he went on.

"Yes, I've noticed the unseemly blotches marring your complexion," Remus mumbled from his bed. I coughed. Or rather, choked at his use of three-syllable words at this hour.

"I'm sorry, guys, but –"

"Shut the hell up," Peter said, in an unprecedented show of confidence.

"Take your own advice, Pete," I said, pulling on my trainers, "you make a fine doormat."

I hastened out before he could retaliate; I had a schedule that couldn't afford interruptions. First, I wanted to strangle Snivellus, and then torture him, and then find out the Truth of the Matter, and then cut him into bits and then stomp on them. After that I would owl my parents for the key to our villa.

Trudging down the dungeon stairs made me thinking of something Evans once told me, long before our hearts were joined as one: that Snivellus, though he be gross (obvious; I don't think anyone with eyes would deny it, except maybe that cousin of Padfoot's of whom we do not speak)…

Next I addressed the moral issues of taking points from a nearby couple, but wrote the idea off as hypocritical. Instead I reemed them out for doing such a poor job of hiding. And by then, my train of thought was far from Snivellus.

Instead I went to the kitchens, where the house-elves provided cake and parchment. The cake I saved as a peace offering to my friends; the parchment I used to write a charming letter.

_Dear Parents_, it said, _I am writing to request your assistance in securing grandchildren for yourselves, by means of the key to the Potter Plantation in Venice. The love of my life and I wished to spend a day or two there later this week, so at your liesure. Please notify me if you'd like anything while we're there. Your loving son, James._

My friends were pretty well appeased by the cake, and promised to keep their mouths shut about my letter, so as to avoid bungling my cover story. This was unnecessary, though, as proved by the letter my father returned that evening.

_Nice try, James. When you start siring children I expect you to be at least thirty. As always, I remind you what your ancestor Boris the Mostly Brave told his son: 'Don't make mistakes, and if you do, don't forget to name them after your father._

_Your mother would like some of that lovely Parisian Chardonnay (THIS IS ME, DARLING. IF YOU DON'T MIND STOPPING OVER IN FRANCE, I'D ADORE IT. AND CHECK THE SECURITY CHARM ON THE SERVANTS' QUARTERS, PLEASE, THEY'VE HAD A SPOT OF TROUBLE. TA!) Behave yourself._

_Your father,_

_Harry Potter._

Followed by his best business scrawl, a note of excuse for Dumbledore, and the key taped on a nice 65 degree angle as always.

"Unbelievable," Remus said. "They trust you that much."

"Nah, they just don't care. Did you say we could bring our friends?"

I glared at Padfoot. "This is a romantic weekend. You're not coming."

"Oh, go on."

"I've got to seal this deal with Evans while I've got the chance. Besides, Mother and Father are touring East Asia next summer, we can all go then." I put on my best winning smile.

"We would anyway, don't hedge. Just because you're not taking your girlfriend to Italy for an innocent day trip doesn't mean you have to cut us out."

I laughed heartily. "What nonsense! Of course I am."

"What are you going to be doing?" he demanded. I stared. Remus and Peter, who were pretending not to be involved, also stared.

"I always knew you were a pervy bastard, but –"

"What are you going to tell Dumbledore?" Padfoot cut me off, rolling his eyes.

"We have business to handle."

"What sort of business?"

"What is this, the Spanish Inquisition? It doesn't matter. I'll just make something up on the fly."

Padfoot frowned, but dropped it. Digging into his omelette he said, "You're going to miss the full moon."

"I'm sure Remus will underst –"

"Damn it, James, we're Order members! It's not like we won't find out what's going on."

Padfoot and I glared at each other, until something bumped my head. Distracted, I looked around and saw Snape oozing away. My morning's abandoned mission came back to me, and I said, "I'll tell you when I know what's confidential," and leaped away.

Snivellus was haunting my dreams and I was going to get to the bottom of it.

"Snape!" I called, slowing to a saunter in the Entrance Hall. "A word."

He rounded on me with a sneer, already bristling. "What the fuck is a cock-eyed Quidditch Squib doing talking to me?" he said in his pleasantest tones. I overlooked it.

"I'm a touch concerned about your feelings toward my girlfriend," I said, still advancing. "I don't like you looking at her."

"I look where I please," he said, trying to sound casual whilst eyeing his escape routes.

"It's not _where_ you look, it's _how_." I pressed my wand into his stomach, not giving him room to fight back. "Be careful."

"I didn't think she'd be your girlfriend so much as a temporary fuck-buddy," he sneered. I put him in a headlock fast as a winkling.

"Take that back!" I started to bellow – but the words were lost as a scroll of parchment fell out of his cloak. "What the –"

"Hand it over, Potter!" Snape spat, brandishing his wand and hurling a few curses at me as I dove. We wrestled for it for a moment before McGonagall charged in.

"What on earth do you think you're doing! Snape, remove that hex. Potter, release Snape."

I let go of his arm, which I had twisted to keep away from the scroll. He snarled and made a grab for it, but I tucked it away.

"I'm so sorry, Professor." I folded my hands behind my back and looked as angelic as I could. "I was defending my lady's honour."

She snorted, recovered, sniffed, and said, "That is no excuse for fighting. You will both serve detention with Mr Filch on Saturday evening." She started to turn away, but I stepped after her.

"Professor," I called. "I have a note from my father – I'm to go away this weekend. I'll have to make the detention up some other time."

She sent my a suspicious look. "Where are you going?"

"I'm sorry, that's between myself and Dumbledore," I said. I lifted my chin and looked straight at her, willing her to fall for my 'heroic young figure' pose. If I did, the boys owed my fifteen galleons each; they were sure it wouldn't work. I didn't blink, or breathe, or move in any way.

"Go discuss it with him now," she said at last. Ha! Forty-five galleons! That'd pay for their Christmas gifts for years to come. I knew all my practice would pay off.

"Thank you, Professor," I said; and, shooting Snape one last dirty look, returned to the hall.

Snape could leer at Evans all he liked now. I had his secret correspondence.

--

"I love you!" Dori cried, kissing me. "You're the most amazing thing that ever happened to this planet!"

"Yeah, I know," I said, wrapping an arm around her waist and gently guiding her to the nearest chair. "Now, Dori, you have to promise me something before I let you see this."

She nodded, practically slavering after the post in my hand.

"No more kisses, okay? Evans is getting jealous."

"Sure, fine," she said, and grabbed it from me. "How did you get this, anyway? I've been trying to intercept Death Eater information for months!"

"It was a brave struggle, but my godly character prevailed."

"He means he was dangling Snivellus upside down and it fell out of his cloak." Padfoot shrugged at my mean stare. "Sorry, mate, you were right in the middle of the Hall. I couldn't help by spy on you."

"Whatever. What does it say, Dori?"

She was wrinkling her forehead over it and clearly getting nowhere. "It really looks like Potions notes."

"No no. It has 'secret correspondence' stamped all over it."

"Yeah? Where?" Padfoot said skeptically. "Listen, why don't we drop this and go to Italy with that manti –"

"He was fighting tooth and nail for it! There's no way those are notes."

"It really really looks like –"

"Shut up, Dori. There's some kind of charm on it. We have to break it."

"James," Evans said cautiously, "you don't think maybe he was fighting tooth and nail for it because of that time you covered his Potions notes with porn and handed them in, do you?"

"Of course not. Give it to me." I snatched it from Dori and started waving my wand over it.

"He's gone bonkers," Padfoot said wisely. "Here's the plan. Wormtail, you head down to the Slytherin dorm in disguise. Sneak in and see if you can't find anything out. Tail Snivels, whatever. Moony, you go catch the manticore and put it in something we can travel with. I'm going to get cake for when Prongs realizes what an awful mistake he's made and starts to cry."

"Ha!" I exclaimed. "Got it!"

"What?" They all crowded around me, clamouring for my attention. "What's it say?"

"'Yardbrook sales meet wide closet ramparts.'" I slapped my palm onto the table. "They must mean they're going to trade chimaeras in Northern Italy."

"You figured that out from that?" Dori asked, clearly impressed.

"He's making it up," Padfoot said. Clearly, he was gnawing at the ol' chains of envy. "He wants an excuse to take Lily to Venice and shag her."

"Hey!" the lady in question cried.

"Shh, shh. He's exaggerating." I put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Or at least jumping to conclusions."

"Oh." She chewed on a nail but stayed quiet. I patted her back.

"Atta girl. Wormtail, your part of Padfoot's plan was pretty good. Go to it."

He shot me a nasty look – leftover from this morning, I supposed – but went off to do some spying. Padfoot went to get cake; Moony, not being an Animagus, was less constuctive, but made himself useful with a couple of books on code-breaking.

"Bad luck, Prongs," he said at last. "It just doesn't make sense."

"Well, it proves that Snape's a Death Eater, at any rate, and we can always take it to Dumbledore. In fact, I should go right now."

"It's four o'clock in the morning," Moony pointed out.

"Yes, well, the wise never sleep." I got up. "I've got to talk him into this Italy thing anyway. Or you know what? Come on, Evans, let's just go." I grabbed her hand and hauled her out the door.

"James, what do you think you're doing?"

"Getting us off Hogwarts grounds. Can't Apparate from here."

"We can't just GO, we need PERMISSION, we need LEGAL TRANSPORTATION." She took a deep breath. All those caps must have been hard on her lungs.

"Ever tried riding off into the sunrise?" I cut in. She shook her head. I snatched her up into a piggy-back and said, "Come on, babe, ride me."

And and and then I transformed.

The guys were going to kill me.

--

We got to Venice in time for breakfast. Because she was so moved by my immense trust in her (that I would reveal our Deepest Darkest Secret) she loved me straight through until lunch, and even then we only stopped for sandwiches.

If by 'loved me' I were to mean 'shouted at me'. Turns out she's allergic to deer.

I'm a stag, for Christ's sake! Not a deer! What the hell is the problem?

--

So then we got to my parents' place and that did appease her. Though my mother be neglectful of her darling child, she certainly has talents elsewhere; that place was designed for c-o-m-f-o-r-t. Evans wasn't into the eight-date sex plan, but she let me scrub-a-dub-dub in the big marble tub with her. There I posed the idea of children, and showed her the wedding brochures I had picked up while she was screaming at me. This she found a bit daunting.

"What are we going to do about the chimaera situation?" she asked, by way of changing the subject.

"Do you think wreaths or bouquets would be better to hang on the pews?"

"Because Dumbledore just didn't sound too confident, and that always makes me nervous. Does that make you nervous?"

"What makes me nervous," I murmured as I massaged her back with one hand whilst flipping through leaflets with the other, "is the thought of you in a skimpy white dress. What do you think of this one?"

"That is a WEDDING dress, Potter."

"Yes, what have we been talking about for the past half hour?"

"Chimaeras!"

"Huh. Maybe you have." I dropped the leaflet. "Okay, chimaeras. I think that Dumbledore is absolutely right, and that we need to use this weekend to track down the culprits, reform them, contain the chimaeras and rid the world of evil. Savvy?"

Silence. Evans made a half-hearted attempt to meet my eyes, but unfortunately I was directly behind her.

"How many kids did you say you wanted?"

Great, now she warmed up to it. What was with women and compromise? "Twelve."

"That's what, two Quidditch teams?"

"Plus us," I said, kissing her shoulder. "Seven per team."

"So if there was only one team…"

"That would be five."

"Hm." She thought about that. "Nope, not interested. Back massage?"

I went on kissing her spine instead, working my way on down. "Realistically, though, how much can we accomplish in two days?"

"Um… James, there are no twins in my family. We might manage one at best."

I poked my face around to see her. "Chimaeras?"

"Oh. Right."

"My thought is that we first break into the government buildings and try and track down whoever they're buying off."

"YOU'RE CRAZY!"

"Ah, and my eardrums have exploded." I shook my head and popped my jaw. Nothing. "Damn it, Evans, will you watch the volume on that thing?"

"Sorry," she whispered. "But you're joking, right?"

"No. Should I be?"

She opened her mouth to protest, but the risk to my ears was too high, so I quickly kissed her. "All that in good time, love. Instead do you wanna make out?"

"Okay," she said.

I wanted to make it good. The next day we would face Voldemort.

--

**A/N: Oh gosh! How will they make it out of this one? And how on earth did James know? Read on to find out!**

**Further disclaimer: the 'you wanna make out' line is swiped cold-heartedly from my darling friend lils03 and also the lovely Tom, in a joint parody they wrote (v funny); the kissing back massage thing can be credited to a Former Boyfriend, who, it may be said, could despite all other flaws give a mean massage; the 'and and and then' thing is from (I think) the Princess Bride, (great book) or possibly the foreward of it. The cake, as always, belongs to bluebottlebutterfly. I think. Unless someone else came up with that first. What is it with James and cake?**

**This story is getting really complicated so if anything important falls into a Plot Hole please tell me in time for me to excavate it. Rest and relaxation, kids!**


	13. Chapter 13: The Beginning of the End

_And this took forever. You won't have to worry about that again, though…_

_Credit to J.K., blah blah, other inspirations (see previous disclaimers), first chimaera reference is a twisted version of a line from Sarea and Jade Okelani's If Only You Knew, great story it's on my faves. I think. Cameo appearance by Diego is MINE._

--

Chapter Thirteen: The Beginning of the End

--

The next day I woke Lily up bright and early. In the hours before dawn, I had commissioned a squad of house-elves to knit us matching breaking-into-government-buildings suits, which I was quite pleased about. I had also gathered our forces (myself and mi amigo Diego from down the hill), arranged a surprise, and researched into spells that might come in handy.

I made three omellettes, too; one for each of us. It was going to be a big day.

"Mmm," Lily said as she came into the room, sniffing the air. "Do I smell basil?"

I wrapped an arm around her and kissed her on the cheek. "Careful, dirty spatula in hand. I made you omellette. This is Diego, he's coming with us on our raid." I slipped that in so she wouldn't notice. She plopped down with a sigh.

"James," she said, in a tone of voice that clearly said she was not pleased. Having finally wised up and run down to the store for earplugs, I was able to shove a pair in before she got going.

"I sincerely hoped you were kidding, but now that I –"

I smiled serenely, enjoying my toast, the sun, and the birds flitting about the yard. After quickly reviewing my mental check-list for the morning I dared to remove one of the plugs.

"IF YOU THINK YOU CAN –"

Nope, not yet. I started a sign language conversation with Diego under the table. He agreed that she was very pretty, but wondered whether she was quite stable? I informed him no, she wasn't, but that she should be winding up by now.

I removed the plug again.

"So I don't think I'll come."

"All right, dear," I told her. "We'll be back for lunch." Diego and I stood up.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

I looked at her very hard. "To the government buildings."

"But I thought –"

"Sh, sh." I laid a finger against her lips. "_Bacilo, mia caro_."

_Kiss me, my darling_.

She turned her cheek but didn't even flinch when I pressed a chaste kiss against her smooth skin.

"The sexual tension in this room is making me hot," Diego said, fanning himself sarcastically. I said,

"No, actually you're just sexually tense." I turned to Lily. "This is something we need to do, do you understand?"

She shot me a look that clearly said she was not impressed. I brought the condescension down a notch, skillfully managing to avoid further shouting on her part.

"With you, _mia caro_, it was love at first sight."

"_Amore a prima vista_," she murmured.

"Yes, as I've told you before. And I meant it. So be happy knowing that I have died to keep you safe –"

"What?"

I let go of her. "Well, this is a dangerous mission, isn't it?"

"It… is?"

"Isn't that why you don't want to come?"

"I don't want to come because it's stupid! You'll never make it through."

I turned to Diego. He cleared his throat. "James and I have done this many times, bella. It is not so closely guarded."

"What – who – why – why? The government buildings?" She looked at me, but it was Diego who answered.

"He wanted… how do you say _farsi una ragazza_?" He looked at me. Lily answered.

"You broke into the law offices to score with a girl? I hope she was bloody fantastic!"

Diego and I grinned at each other.

"All right," she said grimly, "I'm coming."

--

"I don't think we should –"

"Sh."

"But isn't this kind of –"

"Sh."

"Is this even legal?" Lily burst out. I turned to her.

"If you make another sound, and get us caught, I will lock you in a tower and feed you dried crusts of bread for the rest of your life."

"That isn't even humanitari-mmph!" She glared at me, and tried to bite my hand, but it stayed firmly over her mouth.

"One word," I mouthed, drawing a finger across my throat to signify her death.

Diego hadn't taken his eyes off the scene in front of us. "How long do you think they'll take?"

"I don't know." I checked my watch. "Five minutes?"

"They're just chimaeras," Lily said doubtfully, "I don't think they even take any pleasure in sex."

"Nope," Diego said, resting his chin on his fist in concentration, "that's only dolphins and humans. Aaand I think goblins here we go here we go." He patted frantically at my arm, and I snapped my head around to watch. When they were done I shrugged.

"Sort of questionable entertainment value. I always kind of wish I hadn't bothered."

Lily threw up her hands in disgust. "All right, now can we steal the bloody things and get out of here?"

"No no no. My sweet one, I hate to be the one to say this, but you lack the subtly we're carrying with us on this mission."

She raised her eyebrows in question. Diego lifted a Muggle camcorder.

"Surprise!" I grinned at her. "Just for you. See, it's Muggle!"

"It's mine," she said flatly. I hastened on.

"Chimaeras are illegal, as you know. We're going to threaten the government with this. If they don't want international law down their throats they'll have to cut a deal with us." I smiled at her. "See? Puts a stop to it permanently."

"Oh. What kind of deal?"

"Who knows? Dumbledore can handle it. We've got a lot else on our plates."

"We do?"

"Yeees," I said, putting an arm around her shoulders and starting to guide her out, "we have to go for lunch, and also deal with the French giant population, and make a Quidditch team, and study for NEWTS and all sorts of exciting, wonderful oh dear."

Diego closed in behind me, tucking the camcorder into his jacket. "Do we run?"

"No… no, I don't think we can make it by." I swallowed hard, looking around at the Death Eaters flanking the room. I didn't know how they'd gotten in without us knowing, but whatever the means it looked bad for us. "Unless…"

"James?" Lily said.

"Hold on, darling, I need to think. If you'll just make a long arm, Diego, and grab that curtain at my go, possibly we could –"

"James," Lily said, with a little more insistence. "Are they in a pattern?"

I glanced around. "Yes, what of it?" I thought a little faster. "You mean if we could break it up it might confuse them, because they're under such strict orders? Diego, maybe if we both –"

"Who are they under orders from, do you think?" Lily seemed perfectly calm under all this stress, which I was finding quite disgusting as I edged closer and closer to that vital (but terrifying) 'panic' stage in which I blacked out and didn't come to until everything was settled in our favour.

"Voldemort – Jesus Christ and sweet Merlin father of magic, Lily we need to – Diego, grab that curtain right now, we've got to get out into the gallery."

"No! James, stop him, they're all facing the –"

Diego had already ripped the curtain away. We didn't even try to run. I had never seen him before, but there was no mistaking the aura of dark magic around him.

"Voldemort," I whispered. "_Bacilo, mia caro_."

Lily grabbed my hand, and pulled out her wand.

--

**Did anybody else notice the heavy foreshadowing of death? Hm? Hm? No, they don't die now, yes, they fight him twice more with the help of the Order, no, I couldn't be bothered to write it, yes, it would be very exciting if I did (or exceedinly lame. Voldemort, humour? Not so much). They also get married, have child and die. Oh, and James gets a handle on his panic attacks.**

**I feel like I have to justify this. It's completely rotten of me. If you like this story at all (and your reviews mostly say you do, except the ones who think it's crap) your brain is probably running something along the lines of "Why this no-good rotten author thinking she can just control the characters! Who does she think she is?"**

**Let me clear it up. I'm the author. I control the characters. Or at least I try, and when I can't do that I control the plot, except that in this story the plot is kind of borrowed from our lovely inspiration L'Harry de Potter (what an affinity for languages I have!). What I mean is, I'm just a medium here. I type the words, and I've been getting this crazy feeling like maybe the words need to stop, I need to go work on something else, my readers need to read the real thing if they want the rest of the story. So, adieu. Thanks for your feedback, hope you enjoyed. Don't forget about my other stories.**

**Ta!**

--

FIN.


	14. Chapter 14: The End of the Beginning

_Sweet mother of epilogues! You've given birth to another! Credit to John Mayer for being a tops bluesman and for giving me all these great facts about zombies (pretty much anything zombie-related is a direct quote. Does that make my story a compilation of other people's, or is it still mine?). And a final disclaimer to J.K.; here's hoping Deathly Hallows doesn't let us down! I'm opening up the lines for bets as the whether Harry dies or not, btw. I'm kind of thinking yes, at risk of the heartbreak of a thousand tender maidens..._

--

Chapter Fourteen: The End of the Beginning

--

"This is a new beginning for all of us. Despite the dark times that lie ahead, we shall inevitably unite in order to…"

Dumbledore knew this was bullshit as well as the rest of us did. He's just a little more optimistic. Plus, a convocation speech needs to be uplifting.

I don't think anyone was feeling very hopeful the day that we graduated. The Marauders and I were going straight to Order headquarters as soon as we got off the train, and the Slytherins looked as ready to toddle off to worship Voldemort. Glancing over at Padfoot, I saw that even he was too depressed to set off our planned farewell-to-Hogwarts fireworks (patented). I decided to cheer him up.

I tapped him, and he jumped. "Hey, Filibuster," I whispered, calling him by his special prankster-associated nickname. It always cheers him up. "What gives?"

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning down.

"Padfoot," I hissed. The girl in front of me whipped around and glared. I smiled winningly at her, and waited until she had turned around to continue. "Listen, Padfoot, you're not going to cry, are you? You know your special blue hanky is in the wash."

The girl in front whipped around again, this time glaring at Padfoot. "You told me that hanky was Peter's! I can't believe you sleep with a special hanky, what kind of pussy are you?"

"Not a pussy," Padfoot mumbled, not making eye contact. I began a series of hand gestures to let her know it wasn't anything personal, he was just a dog person, but she shot me another withering look and turned around.

I was about to tap Padfoot again when Lily, who was sitting next to me, gave my hand a squeeze. It meant, 'Don't worry, he'll be alright. He's going to miss Hogwarts and he's scared to live without his friends'. I squeezed back, telling her that I'd invite Padfoot to live with us even after we got married and had our first seven children. She smiled her agreement to my magnanimity.

See, this is why I'm engaged to her and not stupid girl-in-front, whose only purpose is to glare and misunderstand. Whereas Lily has many purposes, such as taking notes for me, holding Padfoot's hanky when he cries, and folding my cowboy jammies.

Speaking of which…

"What the hell!" I cried, unable to contain myself. Padfoot's head snapped up, and he let out a joyful yelp.

"He came through! What a hero!"

Peter, the hero in question, galloped by and pulled in the reigns of his Thestral at the head of the crowd. "Friends!" he cried. "Are you frightened and exhilarated by the thought of the living dead, but you just don't know where to get your fix?"

"What the…"

"ZOMBIES!"

I don't know who said it first, but before long the crowd was of a single mind.

"Zombies!"

"ZOMbies!"

"ZOOOOOOOMBIES!"

"Cover your entire body in a thick layer of river mud!" came one feeble cry, which was drowned out by Moony frantically screaming, "Don't show cognitive reason!"

As if anyone knows what that means.

"Go 'bbbuuuurrrrgggghhhhh'!" Padfoot translated, holding his arms out in front of him and staggering around. He actually did look a bit like a zombie.

"James, look!" Lily had been tugging at my arm since all the ruckus began, but I was trying to get Peter's attention so I could get him to go put my jammies back in my trunk. I didn't want to forget them.

"JAMES!"

"Hold on, Lils," I said, tugging off one of my shoes and aiming it at Peter's head. "I think this might do the trick…"

Lily, apparently realizing that panic would not get my attention, said loudly, "Where do you think Peter found all those zombies?"

Looking back for the first time, I was shocked to see that there actually were zombies, all over the front lawn. Padfoot, still shouting "bbbuuuurrrrgggghhhhh!" from time to time (to make his act more convincing, I suppose) was rounding them up. I dropped my shoe.

"Okay, Lily," I said, "here's the thing. Zombies love to eat people's flesh. They're deteriorating, so they need all the fresh flesh they can get."

Lily stared. I talked a little faster, because while Padfoot was surprisingly adept at containing the zombies, there were some stragglers getting around.

"They don't really rest, and they walk all slow, but once they see humans, they get real determined."

"Why are you telling me this?" she cried, tugging at my arm. "We have to get out of here!"

"NO! You can't make any fast movements! You can sometimes trick zombies into thinking you're one of them." Seeing a little one coming up behind, I said, "Here, watch this. Bbbuuuurrrrgggghhhhh!" I dragged my feet towards it, and seeing me coming, it turned around and high-tailed it out of there. I turned back to Lily.

"It guess they don't like zombies that are bigger than them," she said thoughtfully. I nodded.

"We need to get bigger," I said. "Climb on my shoulders so they notice you."

"WHAT?"

"Get up, quick." I helped her up and transfigured our cloaks around us, so that only her head was visible. I could hear her whimpering.

"James, I don't like this."

"Hold out your arms," I called. "Pretend you're a zombie."

"BBBUUUURRRRGGGGHHHHH!" I heard her shout, and could feel my ears start to bleed.

"Not so loud!"

"I think it's working, they're gathering around us."

I blanched. "Don't do it again if they look like they're going to eat our flesh!"

"BBBUUUURRRRGGGGHHHHH!"

Okay, that should have been a good sign. But if cognitive reason was lacking from anyone, it was lacking from Lily. At least when in danger. Remember that last time we ran into ol' Voldie-pants? Uh-huh. Fainted into my arms. At least, everything sort of went black at one point, but since I was holding her when I came to, it seems pretty damn likely.

"BBBUUUURRRRGGGGHHHHH!"

That wasn't her. That was the sound of the living dead gathering around us. "Oh God," I said. "Oh God they're going to eat our flesh. Lily get down, we need to run…" I was seeing spots. I was going to faint. I could hear Lily burghing in the background, my traitorous hands were opening the cloak so I could peek outside…

They were kneeling before us! Hurrah! We saved the day! They must have made us their king! I almost cheered, before remembering that only burghing was acceptable to our subjects.

I wonder if we could use our zombie army to overtake Voldemort…?

--

By the time we got on the train home, we were heroes.

"Lily! You saved us!"

"Did you see that one zombie, trying to bite off my leg? But at the last minute, Lily -"

"Lily! You are the Queen of the Zombies!"

"Lily Lily Lily!"

I slammed the compartment door behind me. "Bbbuuuurrrrgggghhhhh!"

"Jealous?" Padfoot asked cheerfully. Apparently all it took were a couple of lousy zombies to snap him out of his wizard angst. "Don't worry, it gets better." He ruffled the newspaper he was reading, and I took a good look at the headline.

"Zombie-whisperer?" I cried. "That isn't even a real profession!"

"Bet you wouldn't be saying that if it wasn't about _Lily_," Padfoot said.

"I resent that," I muttered. He came over and slapped me on the back.

"Buck up, mate, they didn't forget you. You're all over the second page."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it looks like our Lily gave them a copy of your marriage announcement. See? Big picture and everything. You look great. I'm in it too." He beamed.

I snatched it from him, forgiving Lily for everything she might ever do again. I was in the paper! My life-long dream, fulfilled at last! And there she was, smiling at my handsome picture-self… and there I was, boy did I love her… and the invitation… which said…

"Oh dear Merlin I'm going to faint," I said, and then blacked out.

_You are cordially invited to celebrate_

_the wedding of_

James Potter

_and_

Lily Evans

_Presiding over it will be their best man _Sirius Black

_and their maid of honour _Small Zombie Friend

THE END

--

**A/N: That probably is the last chapter now. But maybe you could take the time to youtube "Wizard Angst", and check out Potter Puppet Pals. You won't be disappointed.**

**Thanks for all the support et al. Happy reading for the future!**


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